Tears flow, raining down like splinters,
sheared flecks of steel from a knife,
a bridge between the blood
of past regrets and the daily grind.
My tears are a torrent,
when I think of how they ground you down!
Family is meant to mean a community of love,
not a cabal of desiccated expectations.
Retaliation - tears are ten a penny for your thoughts.
He looked down at you and smiled, a sick man.
I still cry, tears pour and I'm reviled by that memory.
Dead flesh shivers, emotion scores my thoughts.
I just don't want to remember, it's too much to take.
The rain pours down and I flake
at the thought of those lessons,
lessons of hate, expectations
that she didn't even have a name for yet.
And those tears will turn to flecks
of blood in the eyes of that scum,
that abuser of someone he shouldn't have won,
like a prize at the local amusement arcade.
But the judge gave his sentence,
as the rain ripped down -
a tidal flow of pain, hopeless grief,
no rest or relief from the pressure.
To perform abruptly upon command,
as the courts gave custody to that man!
This post is in response to mariannewest freewrite writers prompt which can be found here. It was quite difficult to decide to publish, but I read in a post on steemit a few months ago - that often the best posts are the ones that scare you the most. The picture is from unsplash.com free to use credit to the photographer Roi Dimor.