Innocence Lost

This is a pre-workshopped poem. I will post my revised version soon.

She, my protector,
Took my innocence
Laid it down in the quilted comfort
Of its final resting place.

She laid the black veil of death
Over its virgin eyes
Closing the lid of the coffin
Burying it somewhere I do not know.

She mourned for its loss
But I could not.
I was not there
When it was taken.

Sometimes at night
I run screaming,
Maddening screams,
Clawing at the dirt
Where it might be buried.

I need to retrieve it,
Take back what was stolen from me,
Rewrite my history.

I cannot find it,
My nails are filthy
With blood and flesh
From the backs of those
Who have taken it from me.

They will not give it back,
For they cannot,
It is dead
As are my insides.

My soul was robbed, beaten,
Left to take its last breath
In the darkness of the worm-infested soil.

Where to go next
With this large gaping hole
Empty of life
A part of me yet not.

Intense denial of loss
Like the baby in the womb
That is no longer alive.
It is there,
I can feel it is there,
But it is not.

Its last breathe has been stolen,
Exhaled through my pores,
Life has escaped
From my large gaping hole
And I cannot get it back.

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