You bought me two bouquets of wilted roses.
You handed them to me with that smirk on your face.
You know, the one you used to give me before you laid
your hands on me. I seen beauty in them. In fact, I had our future
in my hands.
A dozen reasons why I loved you
and a dozen reasons why we could never be.
All wrapped together by the man who abused me.
You see,
I did not throw them away.
I did not rip them apart.
Instead, I laid them to rest.
Which then
Soothed the pain from my breaking heart.

Sara I. Raad

Adults fight all the time,
like children -
So I should take the charge and grow up already!
How might I do that exactly?
Should I start by sipping a cup o' tea?
Or take a swig from the bottle of whisky?
Grow some hair on my face maybe?

But I still fancy chocolate milk
on the side of animal-shaped biscuits
while I plug my earphones in
to cut out the domestic horror story

I can feel in my soul tonight's cold again
In this household he builded
When he's the only one in control

My mind is going crazy
My pride, my dignity, gone missing
To the oblivion of his heartless body

I can't breath, I can't move,
I'm held frozen in his emotional prison
and physical trauma

I'm addicted to the feeling of freedom
I've created in my mind;
Wanting for more when he chained me
In his lustful embrace
Bruising my soul in every touch he made

I remember the rhythm of his breathing,
With the smell of drunken breath;
He whispered in my ears;
Closing my eyes;
Pulling my hair;
He said, "Oh darling, be a good marionette
to your husband"

I can't breath
I wanted to scream
I can't move I wanted to run
All I can hear is my heart racing;
I'm held frozen in his emotional prison
and physical trauma

Then he walked out of that door,
The door to my only freedom from his abuse,
But I don't have the key to set me free;

I couldn't deny I prayed in the dark
Facing to the Heaven
To set me free from the strings;

As if he is a Puppeteer
and I'm his little Marionette;
In a pull of the string,
I'll be the good doll ready for his command

I can't breath, I can't move,
I'm held frozen in his emotional prison
and physical trauma.

so many colours on a scattered on a page,
too many scars on a pretty face.......