16 June 2010

Abusive

You used your fists to break me down

Made me cry... forever frown

Imprints of your knuckles left scattered around

Two black eyes - I couldn't see

I told the paramedics, our friends and relatives

I was being scatty and walked into a door, a shelf, a utility cupboard

The excuses recycled like rides of a Merry-Go-Round

You scream abuse from day to day

I take it on board, hoping it goes in one ear and out the other

I will not heel to your accusations

A poor excuse for a man

I said, I'd stay with you in sickness in health

But I see death's door looming

I can't take anymore - this is my sickness, I want to die

Your anger, betrayal, this farce of a relationship is a lie

Next time, when you feel the demons take hold and submerge you in bitter rage

Take this shot gun and shoot me.

No comments:

Post a Comment