A Childs Picture

Blinded
I crawled from the room
My body a cacophony of pain
I had stopped bleeding
Hence I must be dead
Needed to be dead
The vermillion curtain parted
Allowing a mist of light
I clawed my way up
Glimpsed myself in the mirror
Her mark was on me
Her hands still embraced
Smeared in the remains of my mind
As it pooled in the creases of this decayed flesh
I still bare the scar of her bite
Her touch still hurts
That face haunts me
Smeared with my fluids
A crayon picture
Drawn by a crazed child
Who had been brutally raped
By Sister

© 2005, Mosquitobyte