My 23rd birthday (party)

A mentally ill child saved from a fiery grave.
Better uses to me than being a fucking slave.
Fuck me, make you dinner, than clean some more.
Living modern times in aged land, your personal whore.
Scapegoat to all of you turning white to black and blue.
After all the years I quietly think “is that all you can do?”
 
That night beat for their pleasure one last time.
When eyes closed I was taking back what was mine.
While they slept I carved a happy smile ear to ear.  
The look in there now open eyes blistering fear.
A collection of noses and ears filled my bucket.
Taking those too, no longer will I have to suck it.
 
Five bodies laid out as a beautiful bountiful display.
Sitting by the fire letting the flies have their way.
Detach the heads from a useless, lifeless body.
Skin away to the skull looking back at what robbed me.
Stacking skulls so morbidly delightful in that moonlight.
After 23 long years I turned all the wrongs into rights.