You twist my fingers and pull my hair,
Throw me up into the air.
Then beat me down,
As i try not to make a sound.
If you hear my cry,
I might die.
I lock myself in my room
Icing the wounds from the broom
I walk to the bathroom and inspect my face
I look out of place
My stomach flips
Are not a surprise
My rib cage hurts
I expect the worst
I'm slowly dying
But I'll keep trying
to call the police
So i can rest in peace
Maelea Mercado's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Pain by Maelea Mercado )
- 'We Live in Times of Deep Regrets', Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
- This is my life, this is only mine,, Aftab Alam
- The African Spirit, Gbolagade Taiwo
- For ones who Mock at my love, Nalini Chaturvedi
- Just When You Dont Know What To Say, Say.., OLUMIDE FAMILUSI
- This was the day when i died, surendra jakhar
- Postman, Naveed Khalid
- Nightmare, Naveed Khalid
- Snowdon, Naveed Khalid
- Right is Right, Col Muhamad Khalid Khan