Stark white light exposes the wounds
Emaciated flesh displayed, she whimpers
and I reach out to comfort.
But if I touch her it will hurt as much as when
the knives first broke her skin.
If I speak it will shame her as much as the jeers of the boys grinning at her
****** exposed body.
So I sit.
Her eyes find mine and I see the beasts of pain raging their war.
The clarity of her struggle bring a nausea to my stomach
an ache to my throat.
I drop my gaze, sweaty hands knotted as they had knotted her ropes
Unwillingly the memory washes over me
what they did to her
how they did it
the blood drains from my face
my writhing insides scream for me to expell all memory of the incident
Lungs struggle for oxygen and I choke out a gasp
making a soft noise in her throat
she reaches out, laces her hand in mine
stilling my trembling fingers.
I meet her gaze and see a tired affection
soothing the beasts
And she is the one comforting me.