Guilty Until Proven Guiltier

When you feel like your relationship is a court room and even if you're innocent, you're always guilty.

This is where the war begins.

My heart is pounding the curved bars of its cage.

Sharp pains pierce me.

Creak. Creak.

He is coming.

My body discriminates against the air.

It’s not allowed in anymore.

It can’t, even if it wanted to.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

He is consuming all of the air,

all of my air,

all of our air.

A chilling wave grazed over my skin covered statue.

of a body.

A body that destroyed itself.

My stomach roars.

It has been neglected all day.

It claws at me in anger.

Crack.

I’m hungry.

My heart is starving,

but he will not let me eat.

I sense his lingering presence.

He stomps

deliberately

on the shards

of my glass heart.

The heart that loses pieces

every time it breaks.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

My hand claws the back of my butt,

clutching my electronic

witness.

His head whips towards

its testimony,

ready to object.

Double jeopardy doesn’t protect

me.

Not in his court.

Not in his world.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

His booming voice commands the room,

like a judges gavel.

I must obey the law.

I must confess my crimes.

Numbness reaches my chest.

I am not in court.

I am at home;

what I see

as a safe house

is merely a hopeful illusion

and

not even the strongest protectors

can guard me

from him.

Wisp.

Breath escapes me,

            my life follows in suit.

Can this release of me

            release me of him?

His voice

his words

his hands

his threats

are enough

to win his case.

Another day,

Another subpoena

that I must obey.

In his court:

the innocent are guilty

and

the guilty are guiltier.

Court is (never) dismissed.