Domestic Abuse

Her lips are as crimson as the blood in her mottled veins. His eyes are as black as his dark, ashen, heart of stone. His hands – as cold as his icy gaze – grip her throat. Her feet, as dirty as the ground he’s dragged her across.

Silence, as he lowers her body into the shallow grave.

 

Bio:

C. J. was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder when she was sixteen years old, after a manic episode necessitated her admittance to a local clinic.

Her struggle with Bipolar has been challenging, but she attributes her survival to (among other things) her God-given gifts; finding solace in journaling, poetry, story writing, art and music. She is a self-professed chocoholic and coffee addict, and usually delights in both at the same time.

She aspires to one day publish an anthology of her many poems, as well as a memoir of her personal struggles with depression and living with Bipolar Disorder.

 

© C. J. Spammer

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