His hands snaked around me and all I could think about as the way he always looked when he thought he was being sexy.
It wasn't a secret that he disgusted me, I was only too deep to gets out easily, which I despised. He wasn't easy to break away from, so demanding, so ignorant. I remembered the last time I tried to leave him, I also remembered the hospital bill.
I wouldn't be so reckless the next time.
I had no plan, nothing, but I wouldn't let that stop me.
One day I would get away.
One day I would leave.
One day I would be free.
Whether or not that was when I would die, anything had to be better than drowning right now.
Everytime he touched me, everytime he marked me with cigarette burns or bruises from the handle of his glock, I pictured myself floating.
Not luxuriously as many think they are in the ocean. I was drowning. The waves were tossing me around like I was a rag doll, like I was nothing.
It gave me something to focus on. It made me think that I wasn't
F A L L I N G APART
YOU ARE READING
Waterless
PoetryIf music be the food of love, play on. All the worlds a stage, and two players will dance with each other to make them weep, laugh, or shout. Anything for approval. Dance with me unto night and I will kiss you unto daybreak.
