Down,
I sunk in a stench of pain
all the way treacherous
on my own
I escape
separate from my body
being only soul
in another place
where only tide washes me back
my heart torn by abuse
I no longer see
if it's you or he
So I become a muse
my heart gets locked at the bottom
where the sea dies
buried from the obvious
I wish to see

Oct. 1st, 2006
Copyright ©2006 Johanne Farmer