Brutality - Pooja Srivastava (Poetry)

Updated: Sep 20, 2018

In this dark poem, Pooja Srivastava creates a frightingly vivid picture of physical abuse. It is a difficult topic but one that needs talking about.

The rain poured down and hit my head, And slit my wrist, poured something red, That trickled to drops, in rain it dissolved, A vague groan, from my bosom evolved, You stood so close, encouraged me more, Underneath your sleeves, a dagger you wore, Propelled it at me, till it came to halt, Stabbed in my chest, protracting the vault, The chirping of birds, instantly ceased, They envisioned a soul, was deceased, Yet you grinned, hauled me like stone, To burn me on pyre, to extinct my clone, My chest pounded aloud, when your hands touched mine, My eyes gaped wide, negative of brine, The rainbow too, faded to gray, My love I surrendered, as your hunger’s prey, I clenched your hand, couldn’t just leave, But my strength, on my back deceived, You threw me away, on death bed, And lit the logs, while I bled, Charring my skin, I felt the flame, My soul left me, I lost again, I saw you standing, with grim in your eyes, My soul clenched to you, to your eternal price.

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