jacquize

HURT

Whisky and cigarettes hanging stale in the air. The putrid stench of your all-nighter stings my nostrils.

The gentleman\'s mask slips from your narcissistic face as you laugh like an evil clown to a frightened child.

Your hand that used to fit mine like a glove is now wrapped around my neck choking the life from my bruised body.

Like an unwanted pillow I\'m thrown from the bed, hair torn from my scalp, my face colliding with your size ten boots.

 

I lie still now, no fighting back. Giving up on life, on love. Welcoming solitude and loneliness with open bloody arms...