trapped.



i am done, she said
i am done loving those 
who do not love me back.

with that thought in her mind
every night 
she climbed into bed with him
she let him penetrate her,
her life;
ripping her soul off with every thrust
she remained silent;
her silence loaded with pain
as he moaned and finished.
rolled on to his side 
while she turned to hers
and cried silently.

i am done, she said 
i am done loving those 
who do not love me back.

with that thought in her mind
every morning
she made breakfast for him
let him kiss her, touch her
leave her wanting
she kissed him goodbye 
as he went to work

smiled and said yes,
as he told her he would
bring friends home that night 
she knew what it meant -
booze, drugs and solicitation.

i am done, she said
i am done loving those 
who do not love me back.
with that thought in her mind
she let a stranger undress her
and take her to bed
she let him violate her
as she thought - 
fuck, what am I doing.

every night 
she thought the same thing
as she tiptoed towards the room
he never let her visit 
while he was in the house
with every step she took
she reminded herself
i am done, 
i am done loving those 
who do not love me back.

as she opened the door
it hit her like a punch in the gut
she remembered, once again -
why she did all the things -
as she walked in
and climbed into the bed
of her little baby, her son -
who meant the world to her.
it is all for you -
she said 
as she ran her hand
over his soft curly hair
i do this because I love you
one day you will know
 

and even as she said this -
a little voice in her head whispered
i hope he never does -
know what you endured for him;
lest he hate himself for being a burden
which, of course, he was not.
let him live in bliss,
as long as he could;
until he was old enough to understand
and then - 
she would be really done
done loving those
who did not love her back.


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Books by Arti Honrao


Depression is REAL

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