#mywiltedrose

[mywiltedrose-blog1]

Miranda

That girl is a famous news anchor. A gorgeous, appealing, half-Aussie, half-Fil married lady. Yes, boys, she is married. She is married to a billionaire. You might be thinking, she’s lucky. Maybe she’s lucky in aspects of external attributes. She had the fame, the face, the body, the money, the perfect husband. The perfect husband? Can you call the word “perfect” to someone who beats you? To a person who treats you a slave? A husband who calls you bitch? No one notices her bruises hidden with a concealer. No one notices her misery hidden with her fraud smile. No one notices her shattered heart hidden with her jovial personality. Look at that picture. It seems so normal isn’t it? It seems the happenings in her life is normal. She is not smiling yet she is not crying. All I can see and I want you to see is not the agony, but her strength despite of those slaughtering pains. That this girl is a diamond. The more she’s cut, sliced and hurt, the more she shines.

[mywiltedrose-blog1]

Monologue of a Battered Wife

Last night, I was driving on the street. It was already midnight. Hubby says it won’t happen again, but then once more, I was blinded by love. Do a slap in the face is the real solution for a mistake? Why is it men can be bastards and women must wear pearls and smiles? He loves me but why did he hit me? I’m beaten and battered and yes, I kept it as a secret. No one knows that my home is the most dangerous place, not the studio, not in streets.