Traversing the page—
my pen implores expressions,
but fuzz flows superficial,
images refuse to surge.

Who easily writes wounded words—
years of neglect by family?
Precious words—three—never spoken,
are you able to comprehend being loveless?

Comfort rare in punishment’s field
—where beatings raise welts and tears water weeds—
feeds my fancy to run away.
Dying from affection’s drought—
shifting...