The raining fists
Fell upon her skin,
Each one as fierce and unrelenting as the last,
Yet nothing wounded her soul like
The words he spat out
Callous and cruel,
When he knew so much
Of the suffering
She had already endured,
Did he not care to protect her as his queen
Or was she unlovable
And destined to be this way for always?
Each time he strayed away from their path,
He stole away
Of her weary bruised heart
And she cried not for the bruises
Visible to the eye,
But for the ones she concealed within
Her heart and mind.
This beating lasted just over 3 years,
An extension of the formative years of her life
Yet somewhere within
She knew it wouldn’t always be so bad,
Even as she fell to the floor
Her nose bleeding and broken,
A deep gash exposing her bone,
She told herself
He didn’t mean it,
He’d cry and hold her
And promise not to do it again,
There she lay on the dusty old carpet,
Life ebbing away,
Things will be different from now on,
She told herself as she stole her very last breath as
She was right in thinking things wouldn’t always be
She awoke different.
But acutely tainted
By such a traumatic event.
And she set off on a journey all by herself to put right
All the wrong
She had been delivered
In her short years.
She’s still traveling now,
Only she smiles more than she used to.
She falls foul of her sadness sometimes
And she rains down her fists of harsh words
Upon those undeserving of her pent up fears
And hardly a soul knows why,
Nor cares for her
Brashness and clumsy way of loving.
There is one,
The bringer of light,
The maker of dreams
Who slips into her mind
And whispers his words abundantly
To her waiting and eager heart.
She resists him,
Pushing him away
When she should embrace
For he is wise
And has lived many lives
She knows It won’t always be this way….