I remember the first time you painted flowers on my skin.
A forget me not,
With five purple petals and roots of pain that blossomed over my cheek.
I can remember how you watered them that night.
With kisses and tears.
"Forgive me."
I did.
You were truly a painter at heart
Because you continued to cover me in your art.
You've built a garden of colors and tears.
Over the years,
You have ruined me and called it love.
My dear daisy.
•••
A/N
This poem is to create awareness about domestic violence.
IT IS REAL.
And it can be happening to people you know.
Victims most times need as much help as they can get.
Please, if you suspect someone is a victim, discreetly ask them about the situation.
And contact the right authorities to get them the help they need.
#EndViolenceAgaintWomen&Children
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EPIPHANY
Poetry"I'm desperately trying to heal myself." •. •. •. •. •. I strongly believe art isn't supposed to be pretty, or liked and understood by the masses. Art is supposed to make you unco...
