Abuse

Moving away from my comfort zone alittle

I lay frightened under the hand of a tortured man. The blood and bruises enough to sicken the strongest man. Yet not enough to statisfy the craving of the hungry beast that rages within him. The pain I feel, the tears I cry, nothing can stop that beautiful bloodlust as he strikes one more time in one more sensitive place. The sweet smiling face I know - now long gone. The anger that causes his eyes to flash a brilliant black fills his face. The pale skin that reflects under the softest of bulbs glows an envious green. Yet I curl up, covering my face, as another spot is impaled, another muscle tightened. Memories of our time flash through me, I pray this will be the last night. The last night of this endless tortue. The pain of a fletting mistake. Its always said everything is my fault. The bruises all have their home, the agony has its own name.

 

 

But tonight it seems diffrent. I see my life in the hands of another. I see my spirit in the arms of the devil. The devil whom I trusted. Now i lay here, the tourment taking its toll as my head swims in cloudy images of happiness. Not many do i have. My vision black, my hands pale and iced. Im terribly sorry for whatever I have done. The wounds of our incounters still present. i look at your eyes so black their almost purple and here

 

I die.

Reviews

[HorseQueen]

this is a very good piece of writing. Very sad at the end. Your language is poetic but still easy to understand. But what does it mean when it the abused person says: "My head swims in cloudy images of happiness"? Does he or she still have some feelings or trust left for the abuser? Or does he/she really think that he´s/she´s to blame for something and is somehow happy to be punished? Sorry that spread my musings, but still great writing!

[Mark]

This definitely took a turn from your usual genre. Still a good writer though.

[Coyote Poetry]

I saw abuse to woman as a child. Made me dislike the crime against woman or anyone. Poem is powerful. I try to teach my daughter to be strong. Never allow anyone to treat you with disrespect. Love is support to be good. If it painful do like my Grandmother did. Have a 10 pound frying pan near to insure man knows he must sleep sooner or later. Ending was scary and sometime poem happen too often in our world. A powerful poem.
Coyote