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Scars on Starry Skies
"People expect all stories of abuse
to be loud and angry
but they're not.
Sometimes they're quiet and cruel
and swept under the rug." ~ Trista Mateer
When the sky sips wild thyme,
and the sun savors swells of zenith,
like the sakura essence of spring,
I feel beyond the blushing blues,
the bruised silhouette of victimized wind,
fighting the heinous heat, while barely breathing;
for she did not ask the soulless predators;
familiar fangs, disguised as servers of diamonds,
to steal the innocence from her starry night,
staining the air with bleeding grief,
now the horizon sits ~ a silent spectator~
to a virtue stolen, left to ashes and dust,
of heartbeats soaked in crimson tears...
Copyright ©
Ink Empress
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