Yes, as I walked into

those outstretched arms,

their feather lightness

engulfing me.

I felt u cringe

in pain

as I drew tight.

 I can hear the pain in

your long drawn

breath

as you don’t lemme go;

And my bloody palms

feel

the welts

the whip left on your back.

 The smile in your eyes

as they

well up,

your white gown

hiding

ages of scourge,

my breath is beginning

to mingle in your

silent sighs.

 A mannequin you may look,

brave to the world.

I see what others don’t –

A deep long gash,

red and raw,

in your tired bosom.

 Don’t hide it from me -

you don’t have to.

I like you for

what you are

and not

what you could be.

 Red and raw,

stinging,

I understand it more

because

I too have one.