I wanna live there. Sunlight pouring into my bedroom, all day, all night.
Plants growing green, warmth on my face, from something else than a blow.
He doesn't hit me but I feel deep bruises nonetheless.
If only your body punished me and not your words,
I could honour my own suffering.
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This is by no means to say I wish to be physically abused, but rather that emotional abuse isn't taken as seriously, although it is still a form of violence.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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