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.