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Her Peace

One small window, she looks to her freedom, held by her love she stays and endures.

By Lucero Chavez RiveraPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
2
The Brooch. Eva Mudocci (1903)

As she was pulled from sleep her eyes have darkened. Her skin becoming sickly pale and her body thin.

As the wax burnt her skin, from her back down to her arms she bit her lip, tasting copper as she let the blood run down to her chin.

The world is unkind to the young, to the innocent, to the ones undeserving.

Her prayers never heard as she felt her arms ache from the bruises coloring her skin blue and green.

The walls unchanging, the basement air still and dry with cobwebs decorating the corners.

One small window, she looks to her freedom, held by her love she stays and endures.

An unwilling partner to a life she never wanted.

She closes her eyes once more and breathes in, one day, she won't fail and she'll find home within the earth.

She'll find her peace.

sad poetry
2

About the Creator

Lucero Chavez Rivera

I write about common thoughts people are afraid of saying out loud, short stories about odd moments in my life, and, at times, fiction.

You can find me on these platforms! 👇🏼

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