He spilled water on me,
I forgave him,
He is only a human I thought,
Next week,
He spilled ink on me,
Tiny rivulets made way across my dress,
colouring my body blue,
I still forgave him,
It's okay to make mistakes I thought,
I laughed it off,
Until I had tears,
A few weeks later,
He said he loved me,
I looked into his eyes,
And laughed like it was the funniest joke I had ever heard,
He never said anything,
A few weeks later,
I walked across the street,
My hair flowing wildly against the wind,
I never saw it happen,
When my hair smoked like there was a fire around me,
and the smell of the burnt flesh hit my nose,
My body boiled like it was on fire,
I still didn't understand what happened,
I didn't understand when they did a plastic surgery,
I stand across the balcony,
facing away from the wind,
I wait for the next sunrise,
for the day I could forgive myself,
for trusting the boy who wore a tag of feminism,
and made rape jokes...
By this poem I want to tell you that people who do acid-attacks or rapes are not unknown people most of the times, they are the same people you once trusted, never trust anyone so much that you end up getting in a situation you could avoid😢😢
YOU ARE READING
Amateur poems
Poetry'I walk alone with bruises and scars, some over my body and some inside of me' TRIGGER ALERT!! Do not read if you get easily disturbed with topics like racism, rape, depression, sucide and death.. *Winner of Equestrian awards!! *2nd place in the BLO...
