Rage.
Pregnant with fury.
How could the birth be beautiful?
The labor pains are agony.
Knives ripping out my insides.
Blood.
With your sigh of pleasure, I lose my last drop of life.
My hands are scarlet with shame.
Naked I stand in the night breeze.
Ivory curves and dead eyes.
Sorrow.
Stripped of dignity.
I try to hold my shaking hands still.
I feel unworthy to meet your gaze.
My humiliation haunts me.
Empty.
Jul 3, 2012
Jul 3, 2012 at 12:22 AM UTC
Rage.
Pregnant with fury.
How could the birth be beautiful?
The labor pains are agony.
Knives ripping out my insides.
Blood.
With your sigh of pleasure, I lose my last drop of life.
My hands are scarlet with shame.
Naked I stand in the night breeze.
Ivory curves and dead eyes.
Sorrow.
Stripped of dignity.
I try to hold my shaking hands still.
I feel unworthy to meet your gaze.
My humiliation haunts me.
Empty.
