Talking to Myself

He’s yelling again.

Brace yourself for the blow,

You know it is sure to come.

 

He’s yelling again.

Nod, look as sorrowful as possible

And look at his face.

But don’t cry. Never cry.

 

He’s yelling again.

He’s getting the knife

To threaten you with again.

Hold in the tears and don’t make a sound,

But be sure to look terrified.

 

He’s yelling again.

Everything is your fault,

He doesn’t get a break and you don’t do a thing.

Don’t look at the knife,

It will only encourage him,

Keep looking at his scowling face.

 

He’s yelling again.

You are alone with him,

No one to save you, not that anyone would.

He grabs your neck, but don’t gasp,

Even though it hurts.

Breathe slowly, calmly, you can ride out this storm

You’ve done it before.

 

He’s yelling again.

And there is nothing you can do.

Talking will anger him, but silence will too.

His hand tightens,

The knife is brought to your neck.

Don’t wince.

Don’t cry.

Try not to breathe.

 

He’s yelling again.

You’ve broken your own rule.

A tear is all it took.

You are weak, useless, a mere pathetic girl.

He’s screaming now, hurting your ears,

And the tears are starting to come faster.

You gasp for breath as he throws you away from him

And he stands over you with his last few words

Then he turns, taking the knife away.

 

He’s not yelling anymore.

But you lay there alone,

Unable to make yourself move.

Your neck is bleeding slightly where the knife cut into your skin.

You’ll call it a cat scratch if anyone asks.

You can’t stop the crying,

The miserable crying.

You are weak, you are useless.

You are alone.

You aren’t needed.

 

No, that’s not right.

You aren’t wanted.