Those hands are adorned by bangles that prick his skin,
those chains adorning that neck leave imprints where they shouldn't be,
the silver nose ring brands itself,
it always resurfaces with traces of blood.
He tries to scream but they die in his suffocating throat,
he pleads to be helped and let go,
All he wants is the pain to end,
he abhors that jasmine scent.
But no one shall come, his pleas spill in vain,
obligation silences his defenders' meagre attempts!

______________________________________

It's not always the men who are monsters. Sometimes, they can be women too.....

Love,
Pratyusha