above me was a steel regime

regimented rude

compulsively clean

the right way was theirs and everyone else

was frowned



steel wasn’t just cold

it was frigid

no affection given

just more directions to follow

my heart was hollowly beaten

begging for healing from its bruises

useless to explain if it was just Loved a little bit more

it wouldn’t have accepted less than what its am worth

having to work the brain to its bursting point for relief

watching others rob, beat cheat the system with ease

there has to be a middle ground between being cold

and a deep freeze.

© michele mitchell, 2014


photo credit:


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