i have watched you put black tapes

over parts you didn’t want others to see

                                                            you think this will help hide the bruises of your pain

but a minuscule rests on the crimp of your left cheek.


you don’t want me touching you

for my hands remind you of his face

                                                                        his face which is a replica of mine.

at conception, your first words was a song

                                                                        now your lyrics are silent screams.

no one hears but i do

the heavy thudding coming from your chest

                                                                        something’s cursing itself trying to rip its skin from your body


i know the next days will be hard

but i want you to do it singing