Note On the Poem: This is a draft of a poem Alyssa and i were working on tonight. The story is true. The subject of the story was a beautiful woman whose sexual, physical, mental, and emotional abuse from her parents during childhood broke her mind into multiple personalities.
Still, she somehow managed to keep herself neat, clean, and wholesome in her body.
I knew her for a few years because she lived in the same apartment building as me. For some reason never to be known, she eventually returned to her parents in L.A., and soon after killed herself.
Her name was Gabrielle, and she died in her mid twenties, in Los Angeles, and for all intents and purposes, murdered by her own parents. This poem is in memory of her, who was a gentle spirit, who did the best she could with a brutal life.
Gabrielle
Gabrielle is dead.
Today I heard.
She whose mind
Was fractured
And could not twine
Into one stream.
Nor braid her life
A strength of rope.
I wondered
That she kept herself
Body firm, clothes clean,
And gentle.
There was that of her
Body whole
Left
Beneath L.A.
Still, she somehow managed to keep herself neat, clean, and wholesome in her body.
I knew her for a few years because she lived in the same apartment building as me. For some reason never to be known, she eventually returned to her parents in L.A., and soon after killed herself.
Her name was Gabrielle, and she died in her mid twenties, in Los Angeles, and for all intents and purposes, murdered by her own parents. This poem is in memory of her, who was a gentle spirit, who did the best she could with a brutal life.
Gabrielle
Gabrielle is dead.
Today I heard.
She whose mind
Was fractured
And could not twine
Into one stream.
Nor braid her life
A strength of rope.
I wondered
That she kept herself
Body firm, clothes clean,
And gentle.
There was that of her
Body whole
Left
Beneath L.A.
