From Pink

Dear You,

Did you see blood mix with my tears as I looked to you for mercy? Did you hear my mother’s screams as you snatched me from her arms? Did you hear me sing myself to sleep as your heavy blows rocked my little frame? Or did you pretend to not see the hopelessness that hung above me as I walked on egg shells around you?

How eager were you to see my heart pump no more? My pleas were music to your ears as you fed your ego on my broken state. The louder I screamed, the sharper you thrust, mixing my pain with your pleasure and drinking it like exotic wine.

I cried to the skies for help and saw the moon shed a tear as you choked the words away. I remember saying my last prayer and calling to mother with my last breath. I hope she forgives me for not coming home. I may be a little late this time.

Now my heart is still and my body – six feet under. Although my body decays, my voice would not be drowned by grass and dirt. The echoes of this voice would linger for years with the bellows of truth and power flowing from my sweet octave. Living hearts carry my voice and you will listen.  I will not be silenced. No, not ever.

From the dust,

Pink