Yeah... you learned
how to whisper
"stop" through
his fingers.
Yeah you got
your calfs
from running
and your thighs
from *******
and your resilience
all from him.
Yeah you never
thought you'd
stop drowning
in the black
ink he shoved into
your lungs.
Yeah you thought
he'd **** you.
Yeah, he threw his blood
at your feet
splattering all over
your honor.
His overdosing stomach
being pumped was
put on your shoulders
too.
Yes, bricks
and death
threats were
thrown at
your ears.
But where are
you now?

Alive. Burning.
And his hands
are no longer
tarnishing your
silver skin.