Mehreen Mujeeb - Prosecutor

With her stiletto nails
She scrapes dried blood from wounds
Blood chips off making trails
She follows trails bleeding.

Her heart and mind are glued
Glued so strong and velcro
She cannot think or feel
Still she bleeds from outside.

She's caged in metallic sins
Without a key she can blacksmith
She licks the dirt from her lips
Wishing for a washing machine.

She's seems like a victim
But victims don't prosecute.

Mehreen Mujeeb

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