Teardrop echoes; the tone of your skin drains away,
painting another picture of the night. Whistle-blowers of the night-
torchbearers of the day; kids fighting each other for tree turfs;
skipping stones at early morning ducks. But their mother
inside doesn’t have much time to duck his punch

Well domesticated dogs, too afraid to bark at the night’s
domestic violence. Dominated skin under the dominator’s tight
hands; the love of a shape-shifter— changing its skin to appear
loving for ten pairs of eyes; striking down with a false picture
of love- to the sight of six eyes. Like claws that sink into your
skin; he’s drunk again!

A day away from shelter; for a heaven that does exist from
one’s bruised knees. For all the hurt draped over troubled
shoulders, unfurled eyes crying silent tears bouncing off
the walls

                     A child in the next room hears the teardrop echoes

Started with gold-plated meals and religious heels
Felt like heaven was real
Then why I am in the mirror using conceal

Maldives By day
Belize when you say
In Madison Square
where you keep me boxed if I stray  
For freedom, I have to start with “May,”

Mother stretched her hand to not get met
Countless reports stopped
after the first check
Your life can’t be in danger if you commute on private jets
Burberry shades when he’s most scary
So my trauma doesn’t connect

As soon as I finally collect from my war wounds, it’s turned into show tunes
Like, “ Where are all these hiding bathrooms, when you are out taking pics in Cancun?”
No matter how viral, there will be an audience that says,” I never a ran mile until my lifestyle went down the Nile.”

I asked you
If you thought
You were capable of hurting me
You said you weighed 115lb
But a sliver of glass
Cannot weigh more than a few grams
Look what that can do
You are a shattered pane
That is all I feel
Your little slivers under my skin
You are not my mother
But I hear her in your voice
You have a mother's touch
It stings all to familiar
You broke the skin on my face
Open like a ripe peach
I suppose we are all capable of terrible things
But you burdened yours as love
Pressed it into my skin
And let me rot in silence

Chest tube leaking blood from the side of my breast
Alone and uncertain
in a pale blue hospital dress
He told me he loves me
With a closed fist that felt like a loaded gun
cracking two ribs that must have argued with my lung
sign this waver
We’re running out of time
I wonder if he wouldof brought flowers to my grave.  
If I didn’t write my name on that line

You will rise again

You have been beaten down

You have been abused

You have been torn down

You have been told you were nothing

You have been told you can’t do it

You are plagued by residuals

You are tormented by demons

You are tortured by nightmares

You are attacked by PTSD daily

You are reminded of it all by your scares

You are so tired of it all

Yet you survived all of it

You continue to live each day

You continue to smile

You continue to thrive

You continue to overcome

You continue to be strong

You continue to rise

© Seductive Poetry

Spoken Word Version :: https://youtu.be/xGzGQ-8tSGM