Content Warning for self-harm. If you are experiencing a mental health crisis, thoughts of self-harm, or other emotional distress, please call the 988 crisis line for support.

 

She loved her black dress and red heals  

She loved to dance, and he knew that 

They were always in sync, and she liked that 

He spun her with ease and held her tight 

They were happy on the outside 

While he broke her down at home 

Every spin made her want to throw up 

It was never what it seemed 

Some days he was happy some days he was mad 

But never the same emotion  

His tight grip on her never loosened 

She was to speak to no man but him 

She spent long nights alone while he was out drinking 

She was not to go out without him, but he was allowed to be without her 

He danced with other women while he was away 

But promised to never do it again 

He spit out apologies faster than he drank 

Her black dress and red heels became pajamas and slippers 

He shamed her for being beautiful 

He was mad at her for being smart 

He hated that he wasn’t the only one who wanted her 

And it was always her fault  

His tight grip became bruises  

The dancing became drinking 

She was left broken while dancing alone.