Amazed, I looked at my silhouette,
For there was no hint of my constant sorrow!
Instead, I seemed secure and relaxed,
As though I yearned for each new tomorrow.
There’s no way the artist can capture my tears
While only drawing me from the one side.
So, I’ll continue to pray for God to rescue me
From this man and the hellhole where we abide.
Written for the Weekend Writing Prompt #89 from Sammi Cox at Sammiscribbles: 65 words only. The word, silhouette, reminded me of how normal I used to look while enduring domestic violence. My aunt told me that if she had known what I was enduring, she would have helped me.