Recovery room

She sleeps.

Awakened in a dream where
the airs touch is soothing,
equivalent to a massage catering
to all her prior bruising

she endures a stressless vibe
which places her in a state of
pure, stripped of her clothing keeps
her whole in this world with her
beauty she is sucre

Shes awake.

Outside her realm she's a twig
amongst a far more experienced
tree, verbally trained physically
tamed so mentally this is what
shes forced to believe

Yes sir

No sir

Her vocabulary fixed to his
liking, if she thought to fix
her lips without consent the
thought of that consequence
was frightening

She sleeps.

Now equipped with a mind
which has the ability to
assemble mountains, immune
to any physical hurt while
verbally fluid like a fountain

Her speech unmatched
with no rules attached,
Her leash unlatched her
Voice spilled it's tone
relaxed soothes turns
smooth any surface like
wax

She's awake

A wife.
      who lives.
His life.
      Misplaced, her fight.
To embrace, his bite.

Spent, her days.
           Looking forward, to nights.
Hellish mornings, with satan
               Blissful nights, with Christ

She's sleep

Her dreams bring forth
a stage of recovery her
world a time and place
where she lives trouble
free, no woman should
ever need her sleep to
feel relieved if his plan
is delivered by hand it
is he that you must release

Recovery room

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