Broken

Birthed from death claws. My visual image of an happy life is ruined. My childhood wombed my cracks,my adolescence nurtured it anguish. Adulthood didn't spare my faith,my ugly fate has been decided. "Tie her up,grace has no room for her". That's the voice of my slave masters If I be set free who takes possession of me. This cell gate are barricades muttered from anger,who sets me apart. Regret at my door,I owe him. paranoia serves the meal I should eat. My freedom lives in me, should I let him wage the war. At the expense of my flaws. Should I........... JSBO 🖤