Blood mixes with the hard,

Blood mixes with the hard, muddy ground you’re being pounded into from the person who said they loved you.

Tears spill from your eyes like an untouched stream, well they push and yell and slash at your ivory skin.

Sweat drips off their emotionless face, it’s unpleasantly hot on your skin and feels like acid burning right through you.

They pluck and remove the very few inches of dignity you have left after all these years in this, this splintering, cracked world you are stuck in.

You are covered in the bruises that they placed upon your delicate, soft, pastel body, the one thing they swore in their vows they would never hurt.

But now? Now your nights are filled with vomit and screams. Your screams. They echo through the empty walls, and the massive halls, in this neglected palace of pain.

You are bound to this version of reality that has been twisted and contorted by the lies and the sweet nothings they whisper in your ear as you fall asleep, covered in their sins.

Everything has become this unsafe version of normal. So abnormally normal, that now there is no one around who cares enough to hear you cry and help when you need them the most. 

You pray one day it stops and you can wake up from this dream filled with screams, blood and lost hope.

And then it does, it ends.

You find your hope and now instead of dripping blood and tears, you leak starlight brighter than any galaxy.  

Were you once had bruises you now grow flowers of silk that smell of lilac, they lay upon the patterns of abuse that do not define you.

You now have thorns so sharp and so thick they must lose that last tiny shred of humanity to try, just try and come for your garden of flourishing hope.

Now you are awake and know what its like to be free from those empty walls, the ones that no longer support that palace of pain.

 You woke up.