A March Night

when ink dries on paper

Like physical scars

violence becomes fire

The nib becomes a needle

Digging into your flesh

Tearing into vulnerability

Hopelessness of inevitability

The frailty of feminine strength

Abuse is ink that draws into your soul

Ink that shapes

unspoken words .. ellipses

Leaving you soulfully dead.

53 thoughts on “A March Night

    1. Indeed , the pain of physical or mental trauma can never be explained , it can only be explored by people who have not experienced it .
      Experience it to understand ๐Ÿ˜Š.
      Thank you ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿผ

      Liked by 2 people

  1. Your references to ink, with its dark color and permanence, resonate as a forceful metaphor throughout the piece. There is the sense of remaining pain, but never the sense of capitulation. Well written, Yasmin!

    Liked by 2 people

  2. They say what doesnโ€™t kill one makes them stronger whether it be mental or physical trauma and that can perhaps still stand true. To transcend pain into poetry is strength. Beautiful๐ŸŒน

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you, Roy. You say some very amazing things. Thank you so much .. I hope you are taking good care of yourself and I hope your sparkling Sona is well too.
      Tell me you both are okay.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. You write some amazing things Yassy, I can just imagine what you yourself vocalize. Thank you so very much for your kindness and yes, Sparkling Sona and I are doing great…we are still happy and still falling for each other๐ŸŒน. Sheโ€™s busy working on a collective book but that never stops us from talking about the special people in our livesโค๏ธ๐Ÿ˜‰

        Liked by 1 person

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