Knocking her on the road, amidst garbage,
they flew away, like all fault and filth was hers.
Lying subconscious, she sighs for being alive,
pus seeps out of her wounds,
the cuts release a flood of pain.
She is alive, only to suffer more.

The blood murmurs, "I was subjugated
by them. I fought, I became free.
Now you are all drenched in me
and I'm unable to stop myself from flowing."
The girl breathes silent breath, pausing sometimes,
considering the commas lying between her breaths.
She is alive only to suffer more.

Her videos and photos are clicked barbarously,
a silver tear appears in the corner of her eye,
behind that blurred vision,
she sees her mother shouting,
and stopping them.
She is alive only to suffer more.

That forceful coitus, damaged her organs,
devastated her peace, ruined her childhood.
How can she mediatiate with her bleeding wounds?
She neither sobs nor wails.
She is a numb, scared entity blaming her life.
She is alive only to suffer more.

Her father says to her, "the sin of others
cannot end your life.
You are as beautiful as you were."
But she witnesses people looking at her nastily,
like she herself wanted to get those wounds.
She is alive only to suffer more.

The blood flow has stopped,
the stains still persist.
The blood clots are touched sometimes,
to ooze out pus of hate.
She looks up in the sky, sighs to escape the world.
She ponders and makes a choice: to remove
all the commas between her breathes
and replace them with one single fullstop.
She was alive only to suffer more.

© Amaara

#rape