What He Does to Me
white lights
bright
burning
and blazing behind my closed eyelids
ringing in my ears
high pitched
screaming at me
the pounding in my head is like thousands of hammers
beating sporadically on my skull
a coppery taste on my tongue
it matches the rusty red stench in the air
arms wrap tighter around my waist
they squeeze harder
trying to distract my body from the pain
wanting to lose myself in the feel of my arms
to forget each blow
each strike
and each foul assault that ensued
i’m too numb inside to feel anything but the pain
too numb to feel the repulsion
the shame
and the distress that i know will come
i can’t cry out
i can’t even moan
fear of what he will do if i even attempt it stops me
this may seem hopeless
but even I know that it can get worse
He’s done it before
i try to escape into my head
sometimes it works
but when i’m at my weakest
when even my brain can’t see through the intense white inferno in my head
when all hope is lost
when it seems as though i won’t live to see the morning
that’s when i realize that pain has levels
and i am slowly discovering the top three
but nothing that He has done to me
nothing that He does to me
nothing that He is doing to me
nothing that He shouts at me
nothing that He throws at me
nothing that smacks into my body
not a single insult
a single blow
a tiny bruise
a serious cut
slanderous provocation
or boorish invasion can touch me
not the me that you all see
not the me that the world sees
she’s fine
there’s nothing wrong with her
unless her long sleeves
stockings
closed shoes
dark glasses
and absolute refusal to go for a swim
or have a serious relationship
can be counted as strange
she’s the strong one
the calm and fortified exterior that the world has access to
the act that is put on in the public eye
the show that she performs daily
then there’s the slowly weeping
disintegrating
and inferior being that He brings out
she is kept for His own amusement
nothing that she does can prevent that pathetic being from taking control
She is the one that cowers
the one that weeps
the one who lays curled into a ball on the floor
the one that won’t retaliate
the one that He has broken
But I am the One that he can’t touch.
I am the One who is safe from him.
Because he can’t touch My resolve with his fists,
he can’t crush My determination with his boots,
nor break My spirit with his malicious tongue.
I am the one who stands tall.
The One who’s inner light shines out.
I’m the One that he will never beat.
I’m the One who refuses to break down
and gets stronger with each abrasion,
with each laceration I tilt My chin higher
with each bruise I become more powerful
And one day...
he will look at Me with fear in his eyes
his breathing will become haggard
his whole body will throb
while simultaneously feeling numb
but that time is not now
that time is in the future
and it suddenly seems so far off
But the person that I am;
the strong One,
the One who won’t be broken,
She will emerge.
She is the One that I picture when my mind wonders:
And suddenly, each jolt runs through his body
each swipe is aimed at his head.
The person looking down is Someone who is mentally strong.
Someone who has fought for years.
Someone who is exacting justice.
while the body on the ground is receiving his due
the figure is of a broken man
his eyes shut
his arms circling his body
his breathing too low
and his heart rate too high
but in his head he feels no anger or hurt
only shame and regret run through his thoughts
That day will come
i open my eyes
squinting past the bright light
looking to the shadow leering at me from the corner
yes, i tell myself
soon.
