\'\' He\'s just letting go, this is his form of relief\'\' I say to myself through the grit of my teeth.
He curls his thumb around his fingers, left covered in pretty patterns of blood coloured crimson, and even after the impact; the pain, it still lingers.
I shake off my injuries and do my best to stand, as he runs off upstairs after one more swift move of his hand.
The water coloured bruises stain my pale skin, and his aggressive words hit me like a number of wasp’s intent on leaving their sting. Now I stare in the mirror, but I don\'t see myself, I see tear streaked cheeks and decline in my health.
He\'ll come back down later, with his mind feeling straighter and begin his apologies a few hours later. He\'ll be screaming and shouting, A few tears too but I\'ll make it clear that this time we\'re through, and hopefully this time my words will be true as my mind starts to digress and remind me of all I’ve been through.
Like the time I was stripped off my new party dress, as he drunkenly screamed ‘’BY GOD! YOU’RE A MESS’. Or when I’d sit for hours styling my hair to be asked “Wow! Who are you trying to scare?”. I’d put on my makeup, layer after layer and the entire time he’d just furiously stare. He’d grab me tight by the scuff of my hair, “ YOU’RE NOT GOING OUT LIKE THAT? DON’T YOU DARE!” he’d declare, getting a thrill out of making my life a nightmare.
I pack up my bag, without giving myself chance to get scared, I’m finally leaving, I finally dared. My giggles escape as I lock up the house, and I tip toe down the hall being as quiet as a mouse. I won’t disturb him, he can’t know yet, As I escape with not one single regret, oh..
except of course the day that we met.