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Happy being honest

On the feather, I found softness that his harsh hands couldn’t hold,

he thought I was a thorn when it was all blue.

I try to beat insecurities but left him with greenery,

I’ve been the happiness he’s been treasuring.

Shook my head when I thought he is misunderstanding,

I’ve been roleplaying with him since the morning.

The red carpet he said was beneath the bed we slept in,

was my bloodstains, no wonder I was misrepresented.

Kept my leaves untouched, so he could find pureness,

crazy how a feminist evolved into a burden.

To please the brutal I took scars on my back,

I know I was slavering in love,

I know I ain’t happy being honest.

-Riya Shah

By Ray


2 replies on “Happy being honest”

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