A pounding fist clashes
As streaked tears swim down her tattered heart
As cruel words beat like a ricocheting drum
And sober promises tie her battered feet
To the dusted moldy ground
As banging doors surround her ever growing pain
And hushed whispers drown out her pleads for sanctuary
Her hands grasp the tainted air as the shredded curtain is pulled
Curious eyes gaze at her
As shocked inhales surround
Shaking fingers press against
The fogged rain dripped glass
Surprised feet stumble backwards
Staring at her in shock
Judgment seeps through their black irises
Dark laughter cascades through the glass
The curtain snaps shut
As her butchered face shrinks away
Into the dark shadows of her night
Broken promises that lingered in the poison filled air
Gone
The love that overflowed in her dying heart
Gone
Angry footsteps push through the open door
Angry fists clench roughly
Untrimmed sharp nails dig into her bruised arms
As her red stained eyes drift towards him
Screaming words strike her
He tears open the battered curtains
As he gurgles down more odor filled liquid
“I love you” he screams
Over and over again
Repeating and repeating
Three words
Eight letters
The phrase that filled her stomach with fluttering butterflies
She stares down at her shrieking stomach
As the dead butterflies lie
His strings attach to her limbs
As he tugs at them
Jerking her in outrageous directions
Control every aspect
Every moment
But memories still linger
Thoughts still beat
Hate still brims
She gazes at him
Filled with sprouting boredom
The love that bound her to him dead
The hate that doomed her unforgiving heart dead
Hope brimming through her ink stained veins
Begging for freedom and everlasting peace
Waiting for the deadly strike
Wishing for the deadly strike
If only death was so kind.