Up the creek without a paddle

It’s not always easy to fit in,

But when life has thrown you into a split,

Does it really matter what those reverend preached?

Those hands I joined, leaving my protectors halo,

Slashed my wings and made my soul hollow.

This uncontrollable rage I hide inside my stomach,

Screams for someone to liberate me from this unbearable ache.

Bound by society, ruled by unrighteously virtuous trickster,

I survive to die again at the hands of a monster.

The fire that made us sacred,

Burns my essence and filled my heart with hatred.

How do I escape from his sinful vile reign?

Repressed, mutilated, torchered love in vain.

5 years 10 month for me to equate that blood freezing glare,

Those eyes that used to treat me with intense care.

Lost in this unbreakable trance,

No one seems to spare me second glance.

Can’t they see, can’t they hear?

All those scar that my soul bear?

That beautiful red hue was my greatest pride,

Washed my body with his cutting strike.

It trickles down owning my life,

Better-half, soulmate, I was your wife.

Domestic violence is such a heinous crime. More so in overly religious country like India. Where even the parents of the girl sometimes tell her to live like that instead of fighting back. In parts where a women is the most leading force in the world, she is also led down beyond refute. Someday it will change. But just maybe, today is that someday.

Ipshita Ray