A serene statue lost in the crowd
Scarred wrists and stolen innocence
Playing war and failing at failing in
the constant game of survival
A coffee too bitter to sweeten with milk and sugar
The shrink scribbled down another prescription
On a piece of paper in a shade of pink
"You are a pigeon in a world of hawks."
The assassins behind slammed doors aided
the grappling of removing the pin from the heavy grenade
Seperated parents in the tale of two houses
not realizing that their walls contained
the dried salt of tears and the echoing screams.
Bathing in the blood of my own body
A razor and bottle of pills were my only resources.
Slamming the gates of a very personal hell,
trying to cradle my broken wings
in an attempt to escape the hawks.