Melancholic Nights

I had a vision of making this into a spoken word piece.

He hits her every night.
Nobody notices the bruises though,
Because his weapon of choice isn't physical,
Yet the blows delivered are just as bad.

Left to claim her unwanted baggage alone,
If only she knew this destination was all but paradise.
She soon finds herself in a cocktail composed of one part, "It won't happen again,"
And two parts extra strength Ibuprofen.

He swears up and down that this is the last time,
As if she hasn't heard this sob story before.
Ironic that her hand is forced to be played as victim and perpetrator all in one move.
How quickly she is manipulated back into this sick, twisted cycle.

Malevolence is the seed that she feels growing inside her.
Beckoning her to give him all that he truly deserves.
She grasps the blade firmly and then freezes.
Vivid images run through her head like a never-ending movie reel.

Contemplating her next move, she wonders how the two of them got to this point.
A fiery love that was reduced to ash.
Tears begin to smear her makeup as they dance upon her face.
The slow knife always cuts the deepest.

Author's Note

Kind of dark in here, huh? Happy Halloween.

Reviews

[Blue]

I wonder how this would sound if it's converted to a spoken word piece. This is more a prose than a poem though, huh? I like the fact that the woman has finally decided to put an end to his abuse. The darkness of this poem suits the occasion. Happy halloween!

[dillonjensen]

Thank you for reviewing! And you are right, it is more so prose than anything. Hope you had a good Halloween!