Torn to Pieces

February 19, 2016 Dark, Poetry 0

rusted metal

Ripped leather

Hints of color shine in the sun

She stops

She snaps

the shutter moves over the glass

An old mustang

Torn to pieces

hanging by a thread

hung dearly on the wall beside her bed

A memory of a time

A certain place

Symbolically resembling her beaten face

she hung it there on purpose

a sign of her strength

He beat her anyway

to make her weak

He didn’t want her to escape.

About Lilly Baxley

Stage manager, theater lover, artist in various forms. poetry writer and wannabe killer of zombies! (Michonne in the making)

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