Words of Survival

A collection of poetry. Trigger warning; mentions of abuse, self-destruction, mental illnesses and so.


6. Lover's Hands

My mother always told me stories

About women dying by their lover’s hands.

It frightened me that they saw it as love,

The terrible abuse.


Now I understand,

My inner face is dripping

Large droplets of water,

Mixed with dark blood.

Maybe some makeup too.


Death by a lover’s hand.

Touching your mind.

You call them yours,

But you know they are just owning you.


Another pet,

In their collection of many.


I never understood the women,

Who stayed till death.

Until now.

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