A squeak
A groan
A whimper
A whine.
As you took from me
All that was mine.
A blade
A cut
A drop
A scar.
Was what I was reduced to
A once bright, burning star.
A will
A strength
A stand
A heart
Gathered over time
To pull me back on my feet.

Hurt. Recovery.
Hope. Despair.
A never ending cycle
Of deep viciousness.
Pills. Needles.
Drinks. Dregs.
Efforts to obilerate
Memories from my consciousness.
You took.
Mistook.
My silence for submission.
Now pray.
And pay.
The price of retribution.

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Varnika Jain is prone to having verbal epiphanies in the midst of all the cacophony surrounding her life.  She is a voracious reader, vociferous eater and a vehemently passionate writer. You can read more of her writing at Moonlighting Scrivener where you can find her changing the world, one word at a time.