Pain
His hand raised up in the air,
His brown eyes turn black,
The black you see before a storm.
His hand strikes my face
I feel the sudden stinging sensation.
I turn my face away,
As so to hide my tears.
I hear him yelling
Calling me retarded
Worthless
Bitch
Dumbass
Idiot
Etc.
I run upstairs and lock myself away.
The knife lays in front of me,
I pick it up and put it to my wrist.
I feel the stinging sensation and glance upwards.
The reflection shows the little girl who
Lives in fear of disappointing those around her.
Is this all I've been reduced to?
This poem is about:
Me