Battered (poem)

I breathe

But the intoxicating scents that I am inhaling against my will punish me with sickness

Lies and doctrines thrown at my face and spilt in my food

I am battling against an unknown enemy

And I take the blows as if I deserve them

These things make me weak, they make me fear everything

Too lazy to die, I am usually surrendering with much dignity

Expecting a prize when I never even valued myself

© 2012 Holly O'Brien