Silent Cry

We were in a room on a midday
he was sitting on a white chair,
I stood behind him
and we witnessed the crisp leaves fell from an old mango tree outside
the wind gently caressed our bodies,
it felt like watching wailing waves on the sea
as the sea breeze cools the shore


he lifted his right arm(which has more strength than the other)
and pulled my hands to his chest,
my fingers were trembling with fears
as though they were stems of a wilted rose
i tried to undo his grip but he was strong
i could feel his warm breath right before my very face-
it was engulfing, devouring, hungry


he pushed me on the white blank wall,
pushed me, pushed me
until he reached his epiphanic ecstasy


I was trapped by my own self
shivering in the cold


felt like broken pieces of glass lying on the floor


I gathered myself
as he left me shattered


he left none of himself-
only his haunting shadows on the white blank wall


his breath echoed off the wall
together with my silent cries,


a crimson dot spotted the floor,
nothing was left of me.