The lines cross in the depths of the page
meaningful scribbles push for your attention.
I can read her like a book.
The bruises scatter along her arms in a random pattern,
yet she looks at me with the utmost affection.
I cannot imagine the pain and the joy of seeing her lover turn
from a monster to a sensible and kind man.
The look painted across her face shows
love and compassion and fear all in tune
with the emotions shattering my heart.
I cannot bare to look at her
but my eyes meet her sympathetic brown eyes.
She knows what is happening to me.
She is aware of the anger and hatred I feel towards myself
even in the simplest of moments.
I look with anguish at my scared, bloody hands
then at the new yellowing bruise echoing off her arm
that tried so innocently to caress my face.
What have I done?
I look at him as he struggles to understand what happened.
The bruise is starting to develop on my arm in a yellow
and purple circle. Why do I love him?
Why do I care for the man I so greatly fear?
I take him in my arms, it will get better.
I look him in the eyes, why do I comfort him?
My heart aches with pity as I see him so upset with himself.
Does he not understand that I’ve been through worse?
I look at him and my arm throbs, it’s only a little pain.
I see him look away and that hurts more than the bruise.
My mind yearns for him, but my body says no.
No more pain, no more sadness, but if I push him away
there will be no more happiness.
Will this ever get better?
About the Creator
Callie Cox
I am an English major in college. I live in Indiana and go to Ivy Tech Community College.
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