twisted vines

I turned down that dark road, 
         Abandoning who I was 
                For who you wanted me to be.
Contorted and transformed, 
         I have become unrecognizable in the mirror 
                Held up to my down-turned, shame-filled face
Careful where I tread,
         I twisted an ankle trying
                Not to break the eggshells I walked on.
My stomach knotted with every malformed word I uttered.
         Lies and disgrace, like heavy stones in my mouth,
                Choked out my cries for help.
Hunchbacked from being
         So long under your thumb,
                 My mishapened spirit may never stand tall and free again.

Your weight has broken me.

Submitted to WordPress Weekly Writing Challenge. This week the theme was to “…write a poem about anything you choose, and in any style you choose. The catch: play around with the formatting in your verse.”

The 100 Word Challenge is to tell a story in only 100 words. This week’s theme is ‘Contorted’

11 thoughts on “Twisted

  1. Kir Piccini says:

    Being Twisted is such a heavy burden to bear and walking on eggshells stunts your stride. Every part of this spoke to a piece of me.
    That picture brought every syllable to life.


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