There's still an imprint of
your hand on my face,
from the day you first struck me-
a love story between
paper skin and
iron fists.
It's been long since the redness faded
(long, not gone)
a bruise visible to not another soul
but mine.
๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐.
It smiles back in pictures
mocks me in mirrors
follows me on the street.
You created the mark
but I gave it a life,
a name- a structure
and decorated it with my self worth.
Bruised knuckles smeared in betrayal
๐ญ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฌ ๐ข๐ต ๐ถ๐ด ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ธ
Snake infested waters
๐ ๐ธ๐ช๐ด๐ฉ ๐ธ๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฅ ๐ฅ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฅ.