My eyes are red and bloodshot, with low-lying eyelids.
I widen them; it stings a little.
So I squeeze them shut, and open them again
- very slowly.
I've been sobbing on my pillow; it's smudged with my mascara.
Why didn't I take my makeup off before I went to bed?
What was the point of that question?
I sigh, I know exactly why there's no room in my mind
for thoughts about skincare.
I turn back to the mirror on my bedside, and trail my gaze down from my pathetic eyes
toward a purple gash running diagonally from my cupids bow
to the left side of my cheek.
My lip is split, so it hurts to talk now.
"If I slice your mouth sweetie, you'll remember that you mustn't talk." That's what was said.
My body jolts, I turn the mirror away. I don't want to look at my face anymore.
I shut my eyes - gingerly, to save myself pain -
and I tried my very best
to go to sleep.
My critique is more along the lines of editing. This poem needs a stronger opening. Experiment with shifting the lines around. For example, starting with "Why didn't I take off my makeup before I went to bed?" Followed by "I've been sobbing...", then the second stanza, then the closing. Think in terms of painting the picture in a way that draws the reader in and maintains flow all the way to the last line.
In future pieces, try to explore different types of pain. She's hurting, looking away from the mirror. But is she angry? Humiliated? Guilty? There are so many ways to emote an victim of abuse, and each one will make the reader have an opinion about what she should do - in effect, making her story continue in their minds.
Good job!
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