Hands over my mouth
I hide in the shadows of my room
yet another one
of the many sleepless nights
spent listening for every step
he makes in the silence
of the house we share
the place I am forced to stay
and I don't want to
I don't want to
I don't want to
not again please not tonight
but this is one of those nights again
time to put on a pretty dress
paint my face like a doll
made of porcelain
broken and shattered
used for rough play
just another mindless toy
handled by unforgiving hands
not capable of gentle touch
but still more tender
than his words vile
cutting me down to my core
molding me in his image revolting
put on a smile do not cry
already ran out of tears anyway
do as he says until morning light
and if the morning comes
then let it come
for I can still face another day
I can still hold together
with glue and paint and a fake smile
a bit more bruised black and blue
so that I can be pretty for him
my body ready for him
to last long enough
for yet another night
YOU ARE READING
Poems 2
PoetryWhile in English exists only one word for it, the ancient Greeks with their aim for self-understanding and knowledge found eight different varieties of love that we might all experience at some point: 1. Eros (Erotic love) - represents the idea of s...
