The Verbal Vandal

He was a master of words,
yet he kept to himself
never letting anyone know
the power he possessed in
the words he painted so
effortlessly.
So vividly.
No one except for her.
She was his favorite
canvas.
When emotions heightened
and his temper flared,
he did his best creations.
Stripping her down to her
most vulnerable state,
he began to go to work.
His paintbrush:
his ugly tongue.
His medium:
his wicked words.
Bold.
Sharp.
Full of fiery contempt.
He painted his indelible
scenes on her
without her consent.
She’d fall to
the floor in pieces once again.
Not knowing how to scrub her
body clean, she wept
hoping to erase the pain left
by him,
the verbal vandal.
Yet, she hears him coming
once again.

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