Stripped Down

Angelica Sanchez, Writer

You’re sitting in a bitterly
cold, bleak room. Everything
surrounding you is gray like sullen
ashes, except the maroon coming
down from your mouth & the
splashes of purple manifested
on your cheek.

Little by little, you were pulled
apart like weeds & dandelion
seeds. Icy fingers curled
around your body, stripping you
bare, gripping you tighter,
with nails digging into
your skin.

You were told to stay silent,
while storms were injected to
your veins. You begged for him to stop,
crying & wondering, who would
believe your weeps & whimpers, against
someone who can control all the
colors & weather with his palm.