Stockholm Syndrome
Artchelle Arcillas is an avid reader of poetry in all forms. She is a poetry contributor of Poets Unlimited, a poetry publication in Medium.
A woman caressed by the darkness
how surprising to witness
stars unfolding,
the once bethroted,
freed, liberalized to deprivation...
the path it took,
one i thought the right track...
how foolish,
i am the bait.
over the night,
the escapee cries out of joy,
holding a pen on hand,
papers aside,
look how neat it signs...
the daydreams,
the dream,
it hums a soulful song...
i am hushed to sleep.
'when will i see you?', i uttered
shaking fingertips
to the plea,
cut your trips,
'come back to me,
no thorn could prick
such lifeless skin ,'
the chatters,
a laughing matter, am i?
an unfolding beauty
without love
waiting to be hold,
i am an awaiting lover...
a starved actress
amidst feasting eyes.
indeed a fallen angel
truly not a shooting star.
We accept the love we think we deserve.
— Stephen Chbosky
