But… It’s a One-Time Thing

By Saranya Khera

He gripped my hand hard,

scarlet drops fell

from the crescent mark.

I wondered, if I were bark,

would the wound still ache

or be considered a mistake?

The next day I thought,

if he did it again,

would the blood drip slow

or would it glow?

My thoughts were cut short

by the sting of his slap.

My ear rang,

tears burned down my face,

leaving me blind with pain.

I whispered inside,

“I wish I could fly,

I wish I could leave,

escape this vain life,

and finally find peace.”

I told my friends.

They said, “Divorce him.

If he says no, force him.”

But my heart wondered softly

if it could ever close its doors

to the man it once adored.

By Saranya Khera