At first his hand prints were soft Touching me gently, slowly and softly Then his ego got fed They became hard Found strength to swing
My face the target Swinging and swinging He hit with a passion
I was his lover and his target I forgave and he reloaded Bullets in hands Shot and my heart he destroyed
My inside pain became seen by many Bruises and bumps, cut lips and black eyes They asked why I never left I told them he took something from me He took my heart and left me feeling empty To fill that void I replaced his love with my pain Some called him an abuser I called him my lover
To me it was all the same
This piece was written from a woman's point of view. It's not easy to know and hear of stories of woman that have been abused. If you know about someone who has gone through this kind of pain stand up for the voiceless.