Like a Rose

Roses are red
Like the ones you gave me
When we first met.
Like the ones you used to give me
On all my birthdays.
Like the ones you gave me
When you proposed
Like the ones in the garlands
We exchanged on our wedding.
Red as ruby,
Bold and memorable
Like the marks
That cover my skin
When you took out
Your rage on me
Do your remember?
The rage that made you see red.
Red as roses,
But not so sweet.

I was blinded
By my love.
I never realised
That it had turned toxic.
You promised me roses
But you turned out
To be a thorn.
The one that kept hurting me
Again and again.
Over and over again.
As I searched in vain
For the roses
That didn’t seem to exist anymore

It took me a while
But I decided
To put an end
To my suffering
At last.
I deserved better
And you will never change.
Together,
We will only be a disaster.

That night,
I remembered that
Roses can be white too
Pure and innocent,
White as my face
As I finally
Break my shackles,
Cold, scared, and trembling
I sneak out
In the dead of the night
Leaving behind
You and our life together
Nothing but painful memories.
Yearning for healing,
And a chance at new beginnings.

Author’s Note:

The poem is a work of fiction. While I’m glad that it’s not my story, unfortunately it may be a reality for many. My heart breaks at the thought of all the souls who might have suffered due to this lockdown. Unable to get away, confined for days and weeks together, suffering in silence. 💔

Domestic abuse is a silent killer. While others might see a blissful life, many may be unaware of what happens behind closed doors. I across a prompt about red roses and decided to write about a darker side of love.

I’m currently laid down with a horrible migraine. Please accept my apologies for not responding to your comments. I’ll get around to that when I’m feeling better.

Image courtesy: Manfred Richter from Pixabay 

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