by Amy Sackett
Sitting in my room,
Hearing loud voices from the next room.
She told me to close the door and
Try to block out the sound coming
From your fists and mouth.
I hear her bawling as the wall shakes.
She told me not to listen but I can’t
Help it when her cries are louder than you.
Stream down my face.
Afraid you might hear, hiding seems best
But you already know where I am.
So why do I hide?
My words into my pillow,
Hoping somehow I can escape, escape your
Clutches and teach you a lesson.
Do you know how you make us feel?
She is no longer crying.
Maybe the silence means he is ok.
How can I really tell unless I leave?
My room but my knees are quivering
So bad moving is virtually impossible.
If it’s safe to come out,
If the sudden peacefulness is a sign
That all is well,
If you are still out there coming for
Me next or are you finished with him yet?
Coming down the hall.
Heavier than hers but too heavy to be his.
She’s crying hysterically now, unknowing
Like the rest of us.
Louder and louder you sound angrier now.
Makes me wonder what happened to him.
Sets in as you get closer.
Maybe I’m worrying for nothing,
Could be coming in to give me a
Goodnight kiss or to check in on me
Before you go rest for the night.
Why you knocked instead of burst in?
Why you look so loving and caring
When I know what’s in store for me,
Where they are and what you’ve done with them?
She’s crying for help now and
I know there is nothing I can
Do to stop you.
The bruises I wear, the scars I
Try to hide on both the inside and out
You can’t even take back!
Every time you see my wounds
Do you feel bad?
Do you Regret? Mourn? Cry?
No. you probably Laugh. Smile. Joke.
Ignore. Forget. Praise.
Glad to see that to you, abuse is love
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