Scared out of her mind.
Hands trembling.
Feeling's that cannot be defined.
She waits for the subway to eventually come to her stop.
Where she gets off and has only a few short blocks to walk,
Until she reaches 32nd and hemlock.
She pauses and takes a deep breath before opening to the door.
To a place that is unwelcoming.
Everything but her's all over the floor.
Expectations to high to ever be met.
So she lives with despair and regret.
Expected to be more than perfect.
And when she's not,
She's beaten until her eyes are swollen shut and purple.
Not only is her body bruised but so is her soul.
Frozen like ice.
Cold and inconsolable.
Numb from the endless beatings she's been forced to encounter.
Treated like someone who has no feelings,
Lying on the floor because of yet another beating.
She can't even move.
She can only look up at the ceiling.
Imagining herself somewhere else.
Where there is not a cloud in sight.
No beatings, No struggles. No fight.
Imagining the children she hasn't had yet.
Doing anything possible to not think of her situation that she wants to forget.
Starting over with a memory that has been erased.
She's literally dying to be in a better place.
But doesn't have the strength left anymore to pick herself up off of this floor.
She's lying there. Just waiting.
When foot steps approach her pounding head,
She's too afraid to move.
She has nothing left to lose.
Except her life.
So she plays dead even though the pain is cutting like a knife.
She feels a boot nudge her right side.
She holds her breath and imagines blue skies.
She can hear him breathing.
The darkness from her eye's being closed is deceiving.
Telling herself if she keeps quiet, It might be over soon.
But that's not true.
Because now he's dragging her by her feet to another room.
Where he starts beating her again with the handle of an old wooden broom.
Not knowing how much more she can take.
She's feeling tired. It's getting hard to stay awake.
Her tears have now dried on her face.
Her eye's are black and not just from running mascara.
She's in a confused daze. A never ending impossible maze.
Praying to God to give her another chance.
But God begins to cry because he knows the Devil has won this dance.
God was the one picking her up off the floor.
All the times he tried to save her before.
You can only try to help somebody for so long.
It's up to them to change what's wrong.
Or to take a stand and never except being hit by a man.
Having self worth to survive in this world.
Everything goes silent.
No sound, No movement, No thoughts or feelings.
Only darkness after this beating.
She held on with all her might.
He weakened her.
She lost this fight.
Now this beautiful 25 year old, Is nothing more than statistic.
Fit into another mold.
If you ever find yourself in this situation,
Get out immediately.
Don't hide it and live secretly.
Be the beautiful person you are.
Staying connected to friends and family.
And notice the red flags if all those things start falling apart.
Or pieces are missing.
* I have no idea where the inspiration came from for this one. Honestly was thinking about the pregnant girl who took my order in Wendy's drive through the other day.
No comments:
Post a Comment