Words of Survival

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

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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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