Love is not Lashes

She arrived home one evening after a long day at work.

She was only stopping at the pharmacy to pick up her antidepressants.

He stormed down the stairs with desire to hurt. 

He drew back his arm and delivered the first slap. 

All the pills hit the cold tile. 

She begged for forgiveness, but he had no mercy. 

He pressured her, used her, and already had found her replacement. 

Another woman walked down the stairs with nicely groomed, fancy hair. 

The woman only smirked and left the house. 

There was no room for jealousy or anger, only fear and terror. 

The lashes continued throughout the night before the cries of a baby saved her.

Her husband looked at her, rage gone, and apologized over and over for doing things wrong.

She stood up and went up the stairs to care for her daughter. 

She did everything in her power to protect her innocence. 

Through that she placed herself in a prison with no escape. 

Her husband came upstairs, smiling a sinister smile. 

Only to stroke the baby's head and head of to bed. 

This isn't love, she thought to herself. 

Love is meant to be dazzling, distracting and all inbetween. 

Love is meant to bring you happiness and joy, but instead only heart ache.

Love isn't meant to bring pain. 

Love isn't lashes.