Keramptha
11-23-2005, 02:19 AM
This is a poetic version of a true story, about someone i know.. :(
********************************************
Fractured memories bore ungracious holes in the white chapel room.
As she lay there, broken feet sore from obesity.
No mask could protect those sunken eyes, stared upwards, to a blank painted celing.
When he approached, she felt a tremble in unused pathways for closed veins in her ruptured legs. they began to flow again.
she let them.
A pelvic tension held abruptly tight within sharded bones. the hips were groaning for release, but fists had clenched to stop that movement, long ago.
His hands hovered above, too sensitive to touch. he felt the pain of rape, eight men, upon his body with ugly force, all at once. The memory hounded like snarling dogs with drooling jowels, flash, an orange heat, the mens dark faces retreated.
A slight adjusment in the neck left some space for spine to grow and invite soft tissue to ease the burden of a loathed skeleton.
he breathed carefully while his mind filled with various traumas. Release, release he thought, as more men grappled and held him down. More wretched sex, and violence.
Release. he thought. and gave the demons no more time.
He sighed. he tried his best, always, but somtimes, uncontrollable hate would fester in her twisted limbs, and the fractured memories held on tight, for dear life, they sucked it out, and left her bare, he left the room, to let her quiet, some moments of rare feeling, spun out inside her being.
As she stared, upwards, impassioned by disease, her illness; unable to let go.
********************************************
Fractured memories bore ungracious holes in the white chapel room.
As she lay there, broken feet sore from obesity.
No mask could protect those sunken eyes, stared upwards, to a blank painted celing.
When he approached, she felt a tremble in unused pathways for closed veins in her ruptured legs. they began to flow again.
she let them.
A pelvic tension held abruptly tight within sharded bones. the hips were groaning for release, but fists had clenched to stop that movement, long ago.
His hands hovered above, too sensitive to touch. he felt the pain of rape, eight men, upon his body with ugly force, all at once. The memory hounded like snarling dogs with drooling jowels, flash, an orange heat, the mens dark faces retreated.
A slight adjusment in the neck left some space for spine to grow and invite soft tissue to ease the burden of a loathed skeleton.
he breathed carefully while his mind filled with various traumas. Release, release he thought, as more men grappled and held him down. More wretched sex, and violence.
Release. he thought. and gave the demons no more time.
He sighed. he tried his best, always, but somtimes, uncontrollable hate would fester in her twisted limbs, and the fractured memories held on tight, for dear life, they sucked it out, and left her bare, he left the room, to let her quiet, some moments of rare feeling, spun out inside her being.
As she stared, upwards, impassioned by disease, her illness; unable to let go.