The knife in my back still hurts from your cutting words,
piece by piece it tears me apart confining me in my home
like a prisoner.
Living in fear from your tirades and degrading ways,
weakens me in strength and beats me down to a pulp
in poor self esteem with confidence gone.
Blackened eyes with knuckled fists taking away my beauty
from the wrath of the beast.
Love is not suffering that is whay they say.
Too afraid to leave convincing myself to stay,
hoping and wishing he would change turning over a new leaf.
My constant nightmare of disbelief ,I never imagined a life
like this without any affection not even a kiss.
Before I wither up and die inside I must find a safe place
to hide away from his monster side before I disappear,
and fade away into unconsciousness.
Shelly Wiseberg, 2008
Originally Posted On Site: 2008-03-28 09:25:42
Last Login: 07.16.08
Visits as of 12-12-07: 755
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