Struck


My words leave no mark, never to reach the core of the rock
My tongue had a film made up of vodka and stomach acid
I am drunk off my sadness while he is drunk off my scent
My mouth frozen and I refuse to break the ice
My tears create waves that never reach the shore
Never a bad mark, yet I am still being punished
I try to run after courage, but gravity holds me down with his hands
Blue like the day and black like the night
I was there beneath the folds of rough linen until my mother found me
My mother took my strength and struck my rapist
I never saw my father again

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