The simple words "Are you okay?"
are like a sharp knife
carving into my skin.
The words "It can happen to anyone."
are purple blotches painted on the canvas
that is my body, hissing, and spitting
when they are pressed on repeatedly.
Yet you continue to hit and kick shattering my nerves,
and sending me spiraling into despair.
Into a hole of which I, have to crawl out of,
bearing my scars and bruises,
a warrior with battle wounds.
But that's not what I am
I am not a warrior
I am not a fighter
I am a mother of two
whos only goal in life is to protect
her kids from the monster called,