Out of this Corner

Like a cornered animal

in a smallish spot

poked at and prodded

torture so cruel

you are the tool

in the hands of this evil one

who wants me broken

desperation and psychosis

seem to overtake

but then I remember the place

my Ivory Tower

where I can run and be safe

the place where I can cling

even if

it feels

like

a slick and slimy rock

in the raging hurricane of my life

even if I can feel

the grit from this stone

pressing into the quick of my nails

and it hurts

yet I cling

I want the Ivory Tower

more than the rock

I want the wrought needlework

of the King’s Daughter

not these drenched rags

of this filthy place

this corner in

this world

that I am stuck in

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