breathing became a luxury,
a luxury She didn’t want anymore.
he had Her around the neck on an endless rope of five fingers
four letter word of suffocation.
Her resolve and dignity at his mercy.
endlessly squeezing as,
She sat on Her knees hands behind Her back
like a natural born submissive.
eyes clouded, glazed over by the reality of the magnitude of
Her impending death.
he squeezed and squeezed as
She contemplated Her death over his
“love and affection“,
and then he let Her go.
he always admired the marks he left around Her neck,
like an artist admiring their work.
always making sure to stop right
before She falls into unconsciousness because
“Where is the fun if you become unaware?”
he’d say as he smiled.
then She coughed.
Her breathing labored
hands all over her face
as it cleared away the fallen tears,
and streams of sweat.
every night it was the same
every night as She panicked Her way into consciousness
all She wanted was to wake up
like clockwork, after ever dream
She gets up from her bed and walks over to Her mirror,
and every night you can hear her humorless laugh
as She says
“just because the marks aren’t there for all to see,
doesn’t mean the pain isn’t there for me to feel.”
Gabriela Tejada ❤