When my door is been knocked Food cooks over my prestige's stove For you it’s business's ***** food But in night my daughter doesn't sleep empty stomach I am a *******, Sir! Food is overpriced than my pride.
Every morning my body broke up with pain His hand through my breast squeezes my heart For you it’s necessary pain But in morning my daughter goes to school I am a *******, Sir! Today's pain is bearable against her future.
Everyday i put darkness on my face Dreams dress up on bed in the face of money For you they are pieces of my soul But my daughter fills colour in her book with it I am a *******, Sir! Her happiness is expensive than my body.
I can still feel it. The way your lips touched mine. Without meaning. Without feelings. I missed them. Your kisses. Your attention.
I saw it. The way your eyes drifted to others. Never straying to mine. Never filled with the same spark. Always dull. Lifeless. Loveless.
You would say it. Those three words. Not to me. Never to me. To the others. They always got your love. I got your hate. Your anger. Always.
“You don’t have to love me.”
You gave me orders. Never to be near you. Never to hold hands. Not in public. We did not know each other. They would get the wrong idea. “We are cousins,” You would say. You were embarrassed. To be seen. With me.
I was your puppet. You pulled the strings. And I obeyed your commands. You never loved. Not me. Never me. I was your toy. Something you could throw away.
It’s all a game. Of feelings. Of pain. Of love. Of hate. You are the king. I’m your ****. Just a piece on your board.
I loved you. More than anything. I let you use me. Hurt me. If I got to be with you. Nothing else mattered. You didn’t feel the same.
“No one ever does.”
I saw a prompt and this poem came to mind. I hope you love it and be sure to comment what you think. Check out my other works!!
I married a **** survivor She was terrified and broken Shaken till the last drop of blood She can’t even face the mirror now Now she hates herself for being a girl Just few seconds had stolen her identity Her respect, Her pride, Her value, Her existence Corner of a room was now her place Tears dried heart soaked smile disappeared Yes i married a **** survivor!
Believing i could give back her effeminacy I hold her hands when no one wanted her Society expelled her,Why? Because she lost virginity Because she lost her dignity Because someone forced her played her Because someone snatched her feminess I don’t care, i love her and i promise to take care of her I will bring back her pride her attitude her smile Hoping i could take her to my world of peace Yes i married a **** survivor!
I can’t touch her i can’t make her feel comfortable Suddenly at night she wakes up and cry That night still haunts her My beautiful bud was plucked Crushed and trampled her soul was tampered I gave her home my family my love Yet she resists inside of her, still her voice trembles Still the cruel eyes of world poaches her Still the comments of anyone shatters her She tried a lot to move on but that cruel laugh torments her But now she had her peace for she had hanged herself.
These are the words of a person who married a **** survivor woman and he is describing her fear and pain.