journal twenty three
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my eyelids fall short from their slumber hearts weight become weary. hands lay silently still. my heart cannot take much more of this. my father he beat me. he beat me until i was a raw in color with red blotches dripping their way down like a river flows gently. stringed in pain one lays there. the pearless necklace rolled off under the bed. only a few minutes ago had i been dressed in mamas finest clothes makeup to the best of my ability. papa walked in to see me touching them. now im here wet with fear sticky crimson pure tears walked upon my dense skin. the sky looked blacker than normal it looked like a pit of a hole that once in you cannot find your way out where if you were to have spoken you would see and feel your words around your body sensing your moves with emotions. i don't think i can take this anymore i wanted to run away to juts hide for a while. im not having a very wonderful saints day.
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