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A Secret Well Hidden
I listen to whispers
Of silent descent
Secrets sewn
In underclothes
In the shadows
Hidden well enough
So no one knows
Breathe icy air
Forget to speak
Find our solace
In turth we seek
With bruises I'll prove it
You're amused, allured to it
Something sick
Something violent
With bruises I'll use it
You'll be amused
Allured to it.
Of silent descent
Secrets sewn
In underclothes
In the shadows
Hidden well enough
So no one knows
Breathe icy air
Forget to speak
Find our solace
In turth we seek
With bruises I'll prove it
You're amused, allured to it
Something sick
Something violent
With bruises I'll use it
You'll be amused
Allured to it.
Published 3rd Oct 2017
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3rd Oct 2017 12:05pm
Sometimes our bruises psychologically and physically are hidden but another who has the same bruise will know:) I always love your poem, anonshadow. They show me places within me I have not seen or felt in years.
3rd Oct 2017 8:30pm
I'm glad to hear that, Grace, it's why I share these poems, in hopes someone feels something from it. This was inspired by a friend of mine who was in an abusive situation but couldn't bring herself to break away. Thank you for reading and commenting, Grace. ~anonshadow
