Small Mercies

A prismatic explosion of colours
But all I see is red,
So much to touch and remember
But all I feel is dread.
They say eyes mirror the soul
Yours stare at me empty and blank,
Evocative of you lack of conscience
As you shed your humanity on this riverbank.

You hammer your virility onto me
Power rankling in your core,
My screams seem idyllic to you
My freedom cold and sore.
You assume command
Over the arched shape of my bodily throne,
Looking at me with a conniving smile
But I am not yours to own.

You sinfully caress
The outline of my ragged sails,
Watch my cheeks flush
With crimson hues of blood and shame.
Scarlet riots in the pink sand beneath my feet
Blurring the tranquility of the ocean blue,
Your eyes tear into me
The streams on my cheeks are dappled with dew.

You dust my brazenness off yours hands
Forgetting that womanhood is incorruptible,
You sneer at my gilded form
Forgetting that the golden in my soul is indestructible.
I am a sword drawn from my sheath,
A flower withering in your hold
Battling between the changing course of vulnerability
As you shed your depravity on my threshold

To the world
The blood on my jeans
Will have to suffice to be
A mere concoction of innocent adolescent means.
You cannot smash glass against a wall
And expect it to stay intact,
You cannot bang your fist against a wall
Without flinching at the contact.

The horizon is painted onyx,
An opalescent crescent peeps among the clouds
Seems like a silver lining
Beside wispy shadows of women in shrouds
Alone, I hear the breakers roar
As I look despairingly at the star,
Thinking of another used entity like me
Another daunting night afar.



2 thoughts on “Small Mercies

Add yours

  1. Hold onto those feeling of tranquility. I love your use of colors in your poetry. Colors can inspire but also distress us.

    You have a gift for words and your sense of flow/rhythm is mesmerizing. Keep writing please.

    Liked by 1 person

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