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Star G Jan 2015
Despite the fact that my
vision is blurred
from the intoxication
of the alcohol.

I scream in anger
as I see what look like
hickey marks on your
marked neck.

My vision's red in
rage as I notice
more, and more
marks similar  to those
on your body.

Who touched
you?

Are you
cheating
on me?

Why?

We LOVE eachother!

How dare you
betray me!

I don't even notice
the violence
as I lay my
hands on you. With
my hands in your
hair, dragging you to
our room.

I don't see the
tears staining your cheeks,
as my fist strikes you
over, and over,
and over again.

Nor as my
palm swipes across
that pained face.

I don't feel your
feeble attempts at
defending yourself. I don't
feel my hands unbuckle
my pants nor the way you
kick and scream
in desperation.

I don't see,
hear, or feel.
My mind's ****** up.
I can't think clearly.

The only thing I can
think about is
justice. You deserve
this. I'll erase
that man's marks with
my very own.

You cry in pain and
I don't even feel pleasure;
much less love.
I just want justice.
I want you to know how
it feels like to be
cheated on.

As the night leaves
and daybreak approaches,
I never realize that
those marks were
bruises nor do I
recognize them as my
own.

All I know is that
when I came home from
the bar,
vision blurred and
body swaying.
You had marks on you
that I didn't remember
putting on you.

And I probably won't
remember last
night just like the
night before.
This is from the point of view of an alcoholic husband.
#StopDomesticAbuse
Jan 2015 · 1.2k
Dreams
Star G Jan 2015
I
dream
of
you
my
darling.
Can't stop thinking of you...
Jan 2015 · 481
Bitter-Sweet
Star G Jan 2015
Colored lips, new shoes, pretty clothes,
Eyes that scan the crowd for you, desperate.
A beating heart fluttering weakly in longing,
A blush as those eyes gaze lovingly at you.

Hesitance, fear, anxiety, worry and excitement,
Those tanned legs walk to you, quickly,
For those eyes may lose your figure,
And ruin the perfectly planned day.

Hope,
Hope for gaining your attention,
Hope for a long conversation,
Hope for an embrace.

Disappointment,
As you walk away.
Hurt,
As your eyes focus on another.
Resignation,
As those tanned legs stop,
And turn around.

Gaze averted,
Those eyes refuse to look up.
Those tanned legs walk, quickly,
far, far away; running away, really.

Shoulders hunched inward,
A tense posture.
A frown marring a sharp face,
Then a blank stare.

Arriving at the bus,
Those eyes look up again,
In hope.
Then in disappointment.

Seeing no beloved,
Tanned legs walk in,
And a petite body sits alone,
A sad face staring blankly.

Suddenly a figure sits beside the flower,
A heart races in excitement and anticipation,
The rosy color of a blush appears on those tanned cheeks,
A bright and happy smile grace those small lips.

The world brightens,
Music is heard,
Colors are brilliant,
Air is sweeter.

Everything is perfect, finally.

A long conversation,
Laughter,
Playful jabs,
Close bodies.

The bus stops,
Time to go home.
Anticipation,
A promise - "I'll come over
In a little bit"

Patience,
It's five o'clock,
"He'll come"
It's six thirty,
"Maybe he's a little busy."

Seven o'clock,
Silence,
Eight o'clock,
Desperation,

Nine.
Overwhelming pain,
And hurt.
A pained smile.

Next day,
A smile painted,
Over a mask of joy,
Forced laughter.

"I wonder if he'll
be able to
come over today...
I can't wait."

Anticipation.
Excitement.
Hope.
Love.
I hate it when I like someone,
and see him walking around,
forgetting about me.

— The End —