With his merciless eyes, her body he raked,
Under his rough fingers she felt her body shake.
He felt anger resonate through him in his drunken state,
She tried to cover her face, but the crack told her it was too late.
He wanted to stop, but his sorrow got the better of him,
Her fragile, battered body was starting to give in.
He spat out abuses like sweet endearing words,
Her ears poisoned with the voice that once to the altar had had her lured.
He twisted her arm the way she had twisted his life,
She felt remorse and disgust to call herself his wife.
He lashed, her sobs were like sweet music to his ears,
She sat slumped, unfazed, this had been a routine for years.
He gripped her arm and promised he would never hurt her,
She trembled as blood pooled out from under where his hands were.
He pulled her into a hug, tugged her by her hair,
She felt her windpipe close she chocked but he didn't seem to care.
His fingers left red shadows on her cheek, the one he used to lay kisses on,
Her eyes now bruised black and blue, his love for her orbs long gone.
He kicked her in the stomach from where his doom would be born,
She stumbled back into the wall, she felt something die inside her, she could've sworn.
Was it her willpower, her hope to forgive?
Or was it her progeny, which was denied its right to live.
- Aastha Mehta
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A. N. Song on the side, Cherry Wine- Hozier.
Hope you liked itXx
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Slowly Drowning
PoetryFrom 2am thoughts, to 2pm reality, From being bullied by your own, to society's brutality. From the darkest corners of my mind, To the abused, unloved, brave and always kind. From the ones who have no home, To the ones who love being alone. From the...
