After years of torture and mental abuse,
I could no longer think of a good excuse,
For the marks the cuts the blackened eyes,
My mind wearing thin along with my lies,

The suffering caused by the slightest mistake,
kicked in the head till my face would break,
walking on egg shells to keep all serene,
Hundreds of questions, as to where I had been,

laying stiff and frightened in the bed,
waiting for the dreaded words to be said,
Cringing, then praying for time to pass quick,
as you slept, I would be violently sick,

The feeling of horror, of dread and of fright,
Swelled up inside me, when you came home at night,
Every inch of me, was battered and torn,
Time to wake up and face the storm,

with the stench of stale ***** and another man,
your make up all smudged into your false tan,
You spat those words into my face,
calling me weak and a total disgrace,

I trembled slightly, and started to shake,
I could no longer give and let you take,
So I grabbed your throat without a glitch,
And I screamed in your face die you *****,

I squeezed and tensed my hands so tight,
Your eyes they changed from dark to light,
I slowly forced you to the floor,
and screamed again, no more, NO MORE,

An unfortunate reverse had taken place,
And now it is you with a broken face,
My bags are packed and I'm reborn,
Time to wake up and face the storm.

Christina Ford