I feel like I can do nothing on the face of the earth
as they fight on the other side of these walls
as my tears fall into the green pillow I hug to my chest
as their shouts echo their way into my room as a witness
as his cries fill my ears with pain and hopelessness
as I put a fist to my mouth to strangle my cries
as I try to silence their voices with my mind
as he hits him again with his knuckles or his belt
as they misunderstand and accuse for no reason
and I tumble down an empty hole that feels like no light
can pirece this cavernous, vast darkness I’ve fallen into.

And then I hear him beside me, putting pitiful tissues
on his scratched arm, tear stained lashes and tousled hair
bearing the testament of a spirit’s spite and anger.
And I wipe my tears away, and I open my mouth to tell you,
but I cannot say it aloud, for they might come for me.
But I promise anyway, “One day, I’ll make them pay.
One Day.”

I breathe stale air again,
painful in particular,
burning me inside.

I remember this feeling—
this foolish fall down the steps of my heart—
the shaking of my fingers when I met your eyes,
the trembling of my voice whenever I talked.

I know this feeling.
I know it.

And I’m breathing stale air again,
painful in particular,
burning me inside,
because the one thing I know
is that this feeling hurts,
every time.

With one look,
he sets my soul ablaze.
With one look,
he can end my passing days.
With one look,
he taught my heart to stay.
With one look,
he took my heart away.

“You say so little, to nothing. Why are you so quiet?” He asks.

Before she can even answer, he presses his lips against her’s, stopping her from speaking.