you hit me and hurt me
and often mistook
my fear or my terror
for an insolent look

you shook me and broke me
straight down to my bones
you spit and you mocked me
'til I gave up hope

your words they could cut
just as bad as that book
that you threw at my face
while your dinner got cooked

but the day that I left you,
the cutting was mine
your voice on the phone
couldn't hold back your slime

i remember you screaming
i remember you crying
i remember your voice as
it changed on the line

you whined and demanded
the few things that i took;
you ended the chapter
*oh, but i burned the book.