Her skin, mangled and coarse,
Now faded mauve, ochre, maroon,
Luminescence long gone from her eyes,
Her existence cursed daily,
Why does she stay?
Listless, she lost the power, the fight
When will she apply force,
Stand up for what’s right?
Slivers of hope, is really any left?
He isn’t the only one with the right to leave,
Fragile and uncertain,
Not even able to face herself,
When she looks in the mirror,
She is no longer able to observe
Her appearance, she is only confronted by her fear.
Inquiring, what must she do,
Distress suffocates her,
How can she love him but loath him just as much?
She’s always the one in the wrong,
It’s only her, she’s always
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
Why does she put up with this?
What does she gain?
She doesn’t deserve all of this pain.