In the dark corner of the room
Sits a woman curling her toes
Whispering an empty tune
Under pretentious lies
And cheap perfume
A dead stare meets the eyes
I stand still, not moving
Afraid to stir sensations
In a dark room
Bathe in deprivations
An open cut of the flesh
Pouring streams of red
Seep into ragged clothing
Yet still she remains
Trapped domestic restraints

In the dark corner of the room
Sits a woman painted black and blue
Faded gold hair covering emerald greens
Porcelain skin no longer valued
Abuse for any and all means
The stench of blood is everywhere
But the fear is palpable
So do I continue seeing?
Do my eyes deceive me?
Is she really a human being?
Thinking was not an option
As I step into crimson walls
My only doubt in all of this
"Do I have moral courage?
Or am I the precursor to all of this?"

Am I human?
Am I human?