I Can See It In His Eyes
Location
Anger. I can see it in his eyes,
I can smell it on his breath.
How is he even standing?
He's lost all self control
(As if he had any to begin with)
Fear is swelling within my soul
So afraid of going back into The Hole.
He's so full of hatred,
I can smell it on his breath,
Screaming and shouting,
And spitting in my face,
Says he's going to put me
Back into my place.
Down on my knees,
Face down in the ground,
Until I beg and I plead
Or don't make any sound.
What an animal, what a monster,
Drunk with hate and distrust,
I can see it in his eyes,
I can smell it on his breath
How is he even standing?
Or how can he see,
So caught up with anger
Staring, screaming at me.
He swings at my head,
Striking my face;
(Without make-up for cover,
I would be a disgrace.)
He throws me around like trash
Putting me "in my place"
Face down in the ground where I belong;
Where I am weak, meek,
And my outlook is bleak;
Where all light is gone.
I don't want to go back into The Hole,
It's cold and dark, black like his soul.
I'm sick and tired of being afraid,
But he's stronger than I,
Or so he likes to proclaim,
But I see it in his eyes
And I can smell it on his breath
Tonight he's threatening death.
He's coming at me again,
To hit me once more,
I won't take it this time,
I'm losing my mind,
So I dig my thumbs into his eyes
And scratch at his face,
It's time everyone sees him as the disgrace.
How is he even standing,
Why won't he just fall,
He doesn't seem to be phased at all.
I can see it in his eyes,
I can smell it on his breath
He's so drunk with anger
I'm never finding rest.
He pushes me once
And pushes me again,
Starting to lose his balance
Every now and then.
Just to catch my own
I lean my hand against the table
To find a pair scissors right there
So I question if I'm able.
He grabs the bat by the door,
And charges, no light left in his eyes
Before I even know it
we're on the floor and both surprised.
His expression is unchanging
Now drunk from so much shock
I can see it in his eyes
I can smell it on his breath
This is our last goodbye.
His body is oozing life,
I can feel it on my hand,
The warmth of that red essence
Dripping down my arm.
Will this ever wash off?
Will I ever be free?
From the guilt deep within
That is eating me?
My shirt is stained a crimson red,
Life dripping from his lips to my head.
I see nothing in his eyes,
I smell nothing on his breath,
The guilt is eating me up inside
But at least I've found my rest.
12/8/14