No matter how you try:

I have gotten into poetry, of sorts.

But then my thoughts and emotions give me the retort:

I have no words for these things.

These things that bring my heart to a shuddering halt.

Assault.

Kicked, damaged and bruised.

But where is the news?

I don't want to be the designer of my own catastrophe.

All I want to do is all God has asked of me.

Yet my ears are filled with undulating cacophony.

My thoughts are droning.

On and on and on,

I can't find the words to undress the duress of the bully in my brain-

driving me insane-

this desire for more.

The desire of what?

But here, I refrain.