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Leisa Battaglia Aug 2020
She wields her power over those she claims to love most.
Her words are like daggers meant to turn you into a ghost.
The only thing that matters to her is being the center of attention.
She will complain and cry if, in every conversation, she doesn't get a mention.
Her desire is to be respected and worshiped even if it's not earned.
The power of her guilt and wrath quickly she learned.
She is quick to remind her children of her hard work and sacrifices.
All the while complaining of her husband's insensitivity and vices.
She demands all to shower her with phone calls and invitations for every meal she eats.
While behind their backs, she is talking poorly of them to everyone she meets.
She never owns her actions and lies to protect her manipulative games.
While she gossips and admonishes worst those with her own name.
She is old and bored but that's not an excuse for her controlling hands.
Creating drama wherever she goes is not the way to get people to meet her demands.
But for some strange reason, this power they allow her to use against them all.
If her bidding is not done, they are left to feel guilt-ridden and small.
Look at all she's done for them and all she's had to give up.
It's her turn now to reap some benefits, so pass her the cup.
She doesn't know they are just biding their time until the day she leaves this earth.
Because only then will they be free of anxiety and stress and maybe regain some self-worth.
To make her happy is an impossibility, that they are beginning to realize.
The only thing she wishes for them is guilt and what she says of one to the other is all lies.
Still they try to make her happy and when she cries her fake tears, they try even harder.
Please get her a cross, a hammer, and some nails for she has claimed her place as The Martyr!
Leisa Battaglia Jun 2020
I was young, beautiful, smart, and my life was just beginning.
You were older, more conniving and from the start, it was all about winning.
I was just another shiny trophy and you pursued me with such haste.
You stole my life with your lies; my God, what a sorrowful waste.
Your life, so different from mine, filled with money, power, and corruption.
Your courtship of me, so swift, cunning, and well-planned, was almost an abduction.

That in the beginning I was treated like a princess, of that there is no doubt.
Who knew a plumber could make more than a doctor and have just as much clout.
Your true self you could not hide for long, and I soon realized all was staged.
And, just like a princess captured by a monster, I was soon locked away and caged.
I was lied to and misled, I wanted nothing more than to escape but I couldn't get out of your lair.
You see, I had made one tiny mistake before you were unmasked, I had given you an heir.

So, I stuck it out, like a lot of women do, in hopes things would get better.
But they only got worse, every day a nightmare, and daily my tears grew wetter.
You perversely watched everything I did all day with cameras all around me.
I soon realized I had lost myself, I was just a decoration for you, there never was a "we".
You restricted everything I did, everywhere I went, every penny I spent, all to keep me close.
And when I dared to question you, you would rip me to shreds with hateful, soul-stealing prose.

And just when I thought things couldn't get worse, that's when I was introduced to your inner monster.
Your sick perversions, the wigs and costumes I was forced to wear, the acts I was forced to perform, I lost myself and you won her.
Thinning limbs and hair, new pale complexion, my body wasting away with my soul.
I knew I had to run away, but your threats of how no one would ever find my body in the river kept me in my hole.
I would have done the job for you, taken my own life to end the pain, but one tiny innocent face stopped me and kept me in my place.
You knew this, of course, so you kept up your torture, its intensity ever escalating so much that I couldn't keep up with its pace.

Then one day, a breaking point came after a night whose incomprehensibly horrific events are unparalleled.
At dawn, as you cut up checkbook and credit cards, your words rang in my ears "Get used to it, this is your life now!", I was suddenly self-compelled,
I had been praying for someone to notice and acknowledge the lie beneath the perfect outward facade, because I was too afraid to tell.
But when my mother came over that day somehow I found my voice, and once the truth spilled out of me, I let out a long anguished yell.
That yell was filled with everything I had been holding inside for so long: pain, embarrassment, terror, and utter humiliation.
For I was so broken down by you, I was just a shell, a product of your abusive, controlling, mind and soul annihilation.

Then the race began to free me from the gilded cage you kept me in like a once free and beautiful animal broken of its spirit.
Family members gathering, placing phone calls, packing bags, making plans; my fear of being caught too overwhelming to hear it.
And caught we were; when you came home on an instinct that I may try to run, that you had finally pushed too far.
I cowered hiding inside with my beautiful perfect boy as my mother screamed and cursed at you, but never stopped loading the car.
An image of myself and my father sitting in your living room as he yelled with the greatest of anger, "Look at my daughter, you have broken her!".
You began to argue, but against a man, not a small woman, you soon gave in with my father saying, "I am taking my daughter and grandson. Let them go or I could **** you if you prefer!".

That day I remember being in the back seat with my son as we drove away from my personal hell, and I was shaking so hard it shook the seat in front of me.
My father pretended not to notice and instead spoke of how he wished he had known sooner and how different things would be.
My fear was still all I could feel and I just knew deep inside that you would never let me go.
No matter what I did or where I went, you had private investigators let you know.
It took years of therapy, anxiety and depression, PTSD, countless court battles, and money spent on lawyers to make myself whole again.
But I finally won the one thing I wanted most, my son, and after that, I felt free of you and like my life could at last begin.

You've threatened me with slander and defamation if I ever told my story; you've called me a liar too.
You have only admitted to all your evils once, in the one marriage counseling session that the courts forced me to do.
After the therapist listened, horrified by what he was hearing, he finally called what you had done to me, ****.
You screamed and protested, but when he asked what you would call it you had no answer and it was your turn to escape.
I thanked the therapist, a stranger to me, for finally acknowledging, confirming, and giving validation to all that I had lived through.
As I walked to my car, I realized I was no longer looking over my shoulder and my mind wasn't filled with fear; I was no longer afraid of you.
Leisa Battaglia Jul 2019
I remember you as a timid but tough little girl.
You, so annoyed with your hair's stubborn mass of pretty curls.
Undeniably beautiful right from the start.
It was clear you were sent to captivate everyone's heart.

I must say, it was a compliment when others thought you belonged to me.
And it's crossed my mind, that's the way it was intended to be.
"She looks just like you." I've heard it more times than I can count.
How many daughters do I have, 1, that's the amount.

So alike in so many ways, not just who we each see in the mirror.
But as time goes on and life takes its toll, our similarities are much clearer.
Neither of us asked for the hands we've been dealt.
No one could understand all the betrayal and pain we each have felt.

You're just starting out on life's unpredictable journey, bold but still shy.
I often ask myself what I can do to help, the reason I was put here in your life, why?
I can only try to be an example of what strength through extreme adversity should be.
And make sure that you know, when life throws adversity your way, you can always turn to me.

Your life so far isn't what you imagined it would be, I'm sure.
But trust me beautiful girl, your innocence in it all is pure.
You carry the heavy weight of the world on your tiny shoulders.
Your life will never be as amazing as it's meant to be until you drop those boulders.

A father's love, so yearned for yet unreceived.
A mother whose own interest is all she can conceive.
Feeling abandoned, unwanted, lost.
That turns to anger and feeling crossed.

Trust me when I say, these feelings are no strangers to me.
My life has had many nightmares that no matter how hard I try I can still see.
So many scars and afraid to be alone, I grasp for love where I can get it.
Then I push it away before they can leave and get the last hit.

I see that in you and it makes me so sad.
I hurt for you and the life that you've already had.
I can see glimpses of the unique amazing woman you will be.
But only when you let your guard down and allow me to see.

What advice can I give to help you get through your pain.
When life can seem so unfair and make you feel insane.
All I can say is our pain makes us who we are.
It's how we handle it that determines where we'll go, how far.

And you have so much strength inside you that you don't even see.
But your strong, gorgeousness is visible to everyone, not just me.
And for those in your life who choose not to look.
It's their tremendous loss and just chapters in your life's book.

You aren't meant to pay for your parents' sins.
Let them carry their burdens or it's them who wins.
You are meant for greater things.
And it's close to time for you to spread your wings.

Your story is just beginning and I can't wait to see where life takes you.
I'm just happy that you allow me to come along for the ride too.
I look at you and can still see that beautiful shy little girl.
But I also see a stunning young woman ready to take on the world.

Please remember there are plenty who love you, myself included.
So when life starts hitting hard and you want to give up, don't get deluded.
You'll always have a soft place to land and heal your wounds.
Ears to listen, shoulders to lean or cry on, and people who would give you all the stars, suns and moons.

I look at your lovely face, see your fearless nature and I need you to know that I am so proud.
"She is strong, intelligent, beautiful, kind, loving, and deserves a wonderful life." I wish I could scream out loud.
And when you go off to fulfill all that life has in store for you, we will all miss ya!
Because there is only one; unique and painfully beautiful, ALYSSA!
For Alyssa, my amazing goddaughter and niece. Nanny loves you! You inspire me!
Leisa Battaglia Feb 2019
So many shots thrown
Anonymous; unknown
A warning for other women unsuspecting
Met with lies and fools projecting
The truth hurts worse than any lie
That bell rang true with both, they can't deny
That explains the backlash, so excessive
Lies like theirs are below me, no need to be expressive
I choose to rise above, not far to go
When the attackers come from so low
All know where I am, never hard to find
But it's easier to attack with a screen to hide behind
Their mistakes libelous and illegal
My attorney involved, I can keep it regal
My head held high, my heart filled with bliss
The jealously that fuels them is in my husband's kiss
My happiness, my best revenge
My reputation, no need to avenge
Those that matter know my soul
Place them where they belong, back in their hole
They try to silence my creative voice
But the first amendment protects my choice
I choose to write what I experience and what I feel
No one can silence my means of dealing, my right to heal
By no means unable or afraid to respond
But they're fear causes them to bypass me and reach for those beyond
Too strong an adversary I have proven to be
So they would rather chirp like crickets than bring it straight to me
I'll continue to thrive with happiness and pride
My loyal family and friends aligned at my side
I will dismiss with the wave of a hand and a laugh
The rants of those not worth a minute, not even half
I will rise above, rise above, rise above
Fueled by family, friends, loyalty and love
Leisa Battaglia Aug 2018
Oh how quickly your loyalties change
Something foreign to me, I find it so strange
Today you love me, tomorrow you're gone
The way your feelings wain is nothing but wrong
You allow havoc to be wreaked by the next
It really does **** to be your ex
Those you once called your family, your reason to be
Are offered up to this pig like a buffet that's free
She has no class and lacks good breeding
As she waddles up to the trough for her feeding
You allow her to root and rut until she's had her fill
And even though you know she's wrong, you defend her still
Not quite sure if she's a bartender, a stripper or just a common *****
When I saw pictures of her puffy painted up face, my jaw hit the floor
I can hardly believe you went from someone like me, true class
To some ***** who is nothing more than a nasty piece of ***
She's attacked not just me but my children as well
And for that she's earned her special place in hell
And you, who once said you would protect these kids with your life
You sure threw them to the pig once I said I didn't want to be your wife
You'll find that the pig will eventually turn on and devour you too
She'll attack you and feed on you while I laugh for all you put me through
But after you've gotten what's coming to you, let's not forget the pig
We'll slaughter her, roast her, and slice her up for a feast so big
We'll invite all our friends and family to eat, and during the blessing
We'll tell them what to do with an *** and a pig who need to be taught the karma lesson
This poem is written for my ex Terry Sarrazin II, one of the biggest lying con artists to ever live, and his new psychotic girlfriend, JeAnna Wheat (or JeAnna La'Ray as she uses as her alias/stripper name) for the drama they are currently attempting to bring to my family. But we are stronger and will rise above the trash!
Leisa Battaglia Aug 2018
We must be careful with every word we say.
Because others will always take things the wrong way.
Each feeling we have will have its own day.
That doesn't necessarily mean that it's going to stay.
Each emotion is entitled its time to be expressed.
But in the wrong hands they can cause us to be stressed.
I wish the world would grant me the same right to feel it gives itself.
Until then I guess I'll keep my feelings and emotions locked in a box upon my shelf.
Leisa Battaglia Aug 2018
There are days when my limbs don't cooperate when I tell them to move and leave the bed.
My pillow seems to be made of quicksand slowly swallowing up my head.
My mood is nothing; I'm not happy, I'm not sad.
But the day certainly isn't starting well, it's actually quite bad.
There are thoughts inside my head that I'm trying not to think.
I don't want to face my lover's problems or his propensity to drink.
If I did, I would have to let go of a dream I've just begun to dream.
And then I would have to admit begrudgingly that things aren't what they seem.
All I want is to be happy and to have someone in my life.
Someone who cares enough for me to one day make me their wife.
You would think that wouldn't be too much to ask but it keeps eluding me.
I'm beginning to think the happy ending I've been dreaming of just isn't meant to be.
I've dealt with all the horrors that have been thrown my way.
All in the hope that love would find me and things would get easier someday.
Maybe I would find someone who could share the responsibilities and the strain.
But so far all I've found are those determined to cause me even more pain.
I keep trying to find that one to sweep me off my feet.
But each time they hand me the broom the second that we meet.
I'm tired of being the breadwinner, the one to always provide.
When will I be the one taken care of instead of taken for a ride?
I'm getting tired of being let down, I'm just about ready to quit.
Because each man is worse than the last and my heart can't take anymore of this ****.
It's been picked up and put back together, only to be thrown back on the floor.
But a lack of self worth and insecurity keeps me going back for more.
It's been stomped on, cursed at, sliced up and burned.
And a jaded, untrusting woman is what all this abuse has spurned.
No wonder my body doesn't want to rise to meet another day.
It knows all too well what hurdles will be standing in its way.
I wish I could be more optimistic and force myself to move.
But I'm starting to give up on love and life, they have a lot to prove.
They've disappointed me so far time and time again.
Everyone says not to give up, but the question I have is WHEN?
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