There's something about pain I adore
It fuels me up
fire ignites it burns me from with in
lts passion is unmatched.
I love and hate it
it makes me want to let it consume me
And at times like a crime I commited
there I was walking in the aisle of dead roses
There he was and there I was our eyes locked and I was forever tied
We kissed and what a whole some trinity Mia mor
Red flagged and all I was hooked. 
His touch forever making me needy. 
The abuse I justified
The bruises I covered up 
Indeed make up is a blessing to some extent.
Every wake I just fed my delusions not forgetting his ego
During the day I was his
 puppet and  a master manipulator he was 
And boy did I love the way he lied
He was a beautiful liar, ugly crier 
Whom I never dared question.
Every night in the bed of sorrows I layed.
 As weeping was  as if a tradition for every night.
Black and blue more like a corpse he left me 
Every other night as good as dead I was.
Dead and defiled to be precise.

I was almost a second from being a mad woman.
But instead a prisoner of my own mind I was 
As I died in the silence, resurrected through the excruciating pain.
I didn't want to feel it as I thought rage would suffice.
And before I knew it 
There I was on the headlines as "woman murders husband in cold blood"
 I was free but my conscious wouldn't let me.
The whole universe expecting me to claim it was accident but how? 
When all this was calculated, premeditated and him annihilated 
in my eyes justice had been served...



By Awonke Zoya