Vicious Circle

Mine was a captive heart

With Stockholm Syndrome,

Cowering and adoring

Behind love’s iron bars;

My body was unchained,

Liberally lustful,

A toy, a plaything

Passed among many hands.

But with each entanglement

My captured heart was bruised,

And with each bruise

My body frolicked

With reckless abandon

In clumsily attempted rescue;

Heart and body waltzing

In a vicious circle.

 

Emma H, age 26, 24/02/2017

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