You are mad about my short hair
The scissor was happy instead
What is wrong with my voice?
Cause you shout when I laugh.
My clumsy attitude ...
Is it the problem?
You lick your fingers
So the meal was good
I'm sorry, I was tired
Your shirt is not ironed
But my legs are covered in bruises.
I know the text: "we are happy"
Kind and sweet to your mom
Who always talk about my weight
Her gold mirrors keep judging my smile;
After we leave
I accept your hands around my neck
"You should've smiled more"
But the mirrors...
The inner child of me has died
When you greeted me that night
When you put the ring on my finger
When your lips full of sins
Touched my thighs
I am afraid of being aware
So I keep sweeping
The immaculate floor
The same floor that you pushed me on yesterday
The same floor that I walked on
Thinking you are "a man".
YOU ARE READING
Sweet abuse
PoetryBoth women and men abuse are everywhere. It is something that we're afraid and ashamed to talk about. An estimated 736 million women-almost one in three-have been subjected to intimate partner violence, non-partner sexual violence, or both . That is...
