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

She remarked, 

"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.