Beast's Blue

Blind numbness into the abyss, nothing can be said nor done.

One step forward, one step back
Breathing is no longer arbitrary, it requires a willing power deep within.

Thoughts desperately trying to find logic, but where can that be?
Is it in the red dress torn off and thrown onto the cold wooden floor?
Or is it the empty soul taken from a Beast's hands?

Once a simple optimistic little girl so innocent and pure
Now she's belittled with dirt on her hands, mouth, feet, chest, neck, and down under.
Never did the Beast ask nor care
It was as if she were a mere doll to throw around to the Beast's pleasure.

Maybe the true logic lies within the cold bitter woods, where it all started.
But all those thoughts, can't piece together.

Time passes, all remains the same; little improvement, zero trust and zero care for oneself.
Blood once red turns blue, all there ever is is blue
But all she desires is the pure, innocent yellow there once was.
At times she's thinks "What's the point?"
Relationships with people are anything but a reaction

Finding that logic will never be done
She will never become the yellow, she'll always be the Beast's blue.
No matter how hard she tries,
All is blue.

This poem is about: 
Me

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