By Amy Chin
It kills me.
What you have done.
Kills me.
You don’t know.
No idea.
That kills me even more.
How to forgive the unjustifiable?
The question goes unanswered.
I turn my cheek.
Look away.
Build fairytales, Hollywood endings, weaving truths and lies
Monstrous fatal gossamer web
Deceptive dreams bury stifled cries.
I fool myself and fool you too
You do the same for me
Until delusions blaze and burn
Annihilation screams.
Caught without your smoke and mirrors
Can’t confront the naked truth
Instead we both claim victimhood
Partners, thrashing, used, abused
Blow by blow, the body battered
Pounding down the soul
Until a tiny flicker turns
Embers, glowing coals.
Tattered, shredded, threaded, bedded
Serviced, done, now rest, what purpose
Timeless dramas told, retold
What could I say, I knew the script, I fit the mold.
Who taught the man to rape and hit and pin the woman down?
Who taught the woman hide within and take it lying down?
Who taught the man to lie and lie, to twist reality?
Who taught the woman to deny, to live half-dead amidst debris?
Who taught the man to fall asleep as woman cried and cried?
Her sobs becoming choking fits, her body bloodied dry.
Who taught her to defend her man while others screamed abuse?
Who taught him how to kill respect, to maim the woman who refused?
And then suggest she must comply, to practice with him day and night
Until he tore her past repair, her nightlife terror and despair.
In between he soothed with kisses, honeyed words, home-cooked dishes
She loved him more, starry-eyed, now daily willing to comply.
But to comply was agony
Because there was no way
To stop him when the pain intensified and water pooled her eyes.
Yet how could she refuse?
He loved her so, so much so much, like no one she had known.
Broken home, no place to turn, he took her in, made her his own.
Fed and sheltered by her man, no money left to spare
She gave herself to him.
Together they foreswore despair.
And clung to dreams of love.
Prostitution, some would say, sex for food and shelter.
How could you others said, he’s old enough to be your father.
But love there was and love there is, deep tenderness and care
In between those violent scenes was sweetness soothing bliss
Ecstatic highs, truths and lies
One yo-yo roller coaster ride.
Monster, saint, villain, hero, damsel in distress
Knight in shining armor, brutal rapist, exotic sex slave
Illusions and confusions.
About amy chin
Powerful.