The Door

lightdoor

Six days and four hours
It is I whom he devours
 
Drunk one night
Under the club’s lights
 
I accepted a ride home
Too intoxicated to roam
 
First came the sweet talk
So I wouldn’t baulk
 
Then came the hand holding
Vicious plan unfolding
 
A lock of the car doors
Inside the voices roar
 
A knock on the head
Felt as if I were dead
 
When I came to
Dread was all I knew
 
“Surprise,” he said
“My name is Fred”
 
I cried and pleaded
At home I was needed
 
“Too late for that
You be good, you little brat”
 
Dark, damp, and cold
A loose door is outlined in gold
 
Screams go unheard
My vision has been blurred
 
Covered in urine and blood
And shackled in this mud
 
Hope is not lost on me
Should I ever set myself free
 
Up from this slippery floor
And out of that locked door

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