It’s nearly midnight and I should be sleeping
But thoughts of anxiety and anguish penetrate my mind, they are creeping.
As the ebon circles under my eyes grow darker
My cognizance distorts to a despondent state of preoccupancy
About that night, the violence done to me.
As each day passes my face grows more pale
My eyes more dark and my thoughts more stale
As I start drift off I’m suddenly roused
With nightmares my that my mind has housed.
My soul feels hopeless as night turns into day
And it’s time to go to work in my wretched state.
A Survivor Not a Victim 