you pasted scars all over my back
And showered it with salt
"Did you shout?"
Darling, how I wish I could.
I struggled to make a sound.
Any sound.
A mere whimper is enough to suffice my ears,
Ears that have been worn out by the walls.
Screaming at them.
screaming at me.
only the sound of the whip slashing against my bare skin has been keeping me company.
Hell, it almost sounded like a song.
ever watched the count of monte cristo?