Tortured minds do not heal easy
It takes a lifetime to dig up a coffin and wash it cold
Wash it through the ruminants/reminants of what it has been through
Wash it clean of the dirt, the rubble
The torture of being 6 foot under a ground when you arent even dead
Tortured minds are not easy to heal
You soothe and relax it with pretty words whispering, never shouting
Pretty things to adorn the mind,
Feeding it knowledge and allowing it freedom
Supple butter to heal the skin that is so swollen, so burnt through with bitter tongues firing at it
Beaten through like plums in autumn
You place a band-aid over the scar
You tell them it’ll be alright
And you leave.
As if a lifetime of mental torture didnt occur
As if it didn’t burn to the core
As if it doesn’t take an obliteration of all that is dark in your body just to wake up in the mornings
Just the way you wash your unholy body in salty water
A body that isnt even yours anymore
A body and mind that was taken from you
Too young to fight back
Why was I too young to fight back.