Why?

Domestic violence victim

That crucifix of yours
Rough covered and sharp
Made with prejudice and a harsh tongue
Unwavering
Rigid
Alone in its thoughtless dust

Then you took my hand
And held it firm to the cross
I walked away riddled in splinters
“That’s love” you would say
You even assured me that our bond was holy
But the pain made me question my faith

When the roses began to wilt
And the thorns grew longer
My quiet heart was trapped
Beating against me as it tried to grow

Until I was bleeding
It was then that I realized
You used my faith against me
Pricked my fingers and called it love
Yet I remained
And now I wonder

Why?