HER
She is bitter,
Like the after taste
Of all that was ever too sweet.
The emotions
Controlled insider her,
Having been simmering there for long
Begin to reflect in her being.
Acerbic and sharp,
She is always on her guard
Protecting herself
From those wanting
To get beneath her skin.
Like wine
That turns bitter
Having been housed in a tavern for long,
She too has turned bitter.
Unaware of
Her true identity
And afraid to recognize it,
She hides beneath
Layers of hateful intensify.
Her body –
Demeaned and objectified,
Has been draped in somber covers,
With the aim of humiliation.
She is unaware
Of her beauty,
Having always been taught
To be modest and contain herself.
Her body
Is reduced to a mere corpse,
Lifeless, without desire.
Years of spite
Fill her,
Like a jar filled to the brim.
She had resisted
Giving back to attempts of control,
But realising
The recurring nature of restraint
She conceded to submission.
The hate
Fed to her,
Ferments within,
Giving rise to a poison –
A bitter venom
Like one spewed by a vile snake.
She turns bitter –
The effects of the toxin
Taking over;
Malicious prejudice
As well as controlling restrictions.