Exhaustion
The repetitiveness of patterns
He skinned my soul
Until the itchiness defeated the sorrows.
Like monsoon winds that with the structure of every home
Wipe out the memoir of every supper,
Of every morning
Of every cuddle.
He pulled my hair
He dimmed my eyes
He mocked my struggle.
Like a child that skims a stone
hoping, with each decaying bounce
For it to last just one more before sinking
Into the seabed
I held my breath
And thought I could trick the hours.
But he grabbed my feet and kicked my head
Whilst glaring through me into the distance
I saw his grin repulse my flesh
And abduct a heart
Left without strength to oppose resistance.
A wicked acquaintance with pleasure
Was enough to let him
Delimit the shape of my words
The weight of my voice
To let him accuse of paltry my desires.
What’s left of me, a marionette
Drowned by self-doubt
In waters that are too shallow.
© Cecilia Padilla-Iglesias, 2021