Farmboy
04-29-07, 03:15 AM
Never have I cried as hard as this. Tears streaming down my cheeks; snot oozing from my nose in strings, lightly falling to the floor; saliva trickling down my chin with every hard and labored breath. Why am I forced to face such torment? Forced to be used as his punching bag. He pushes me and I regain my composure. He knocks me down and I get back up. He leans in close, stares me straight in the face and I avert my gaze.
I search for something on the wall to give my focus. His hot breath, thick with the scent of menthol cigarettes, chills my bones. He dares me to do something, to retaliate, but I don't. Knowing full well that if I did, he would drive my skull into the ground and tear me apart. I ask him to leave with as much calm as I can muster, but he seems not to listen.
I stand there and take it. Placing my mind somewhere else, I treat the beating with a stoic nature. He can't hurt me if I'm not there. He leaves and I crumble. Slumping to my knees I fall forward and hold my head in my hands. Let the onslaught of tears begin.
The next day he returns to me, his face free of emotion, as if he holds no guilt towards what he has done. He walks up to me, looks me in the eye and says, "You know I love you, right?" I reply with a simple, "Yes." Though deep down I know more could be said. He moves in to hug me and I return the embrace half-heartedly, but he hardly seems to notice. With a final pat on the back, he walks away. Outwardly, everything seems fine, but in my mind I'm counting the days until he again chooses to show how much he loves me.
I search for something on the wall to give my focus. His hot breath, thick with the scent of menthol cigarettes, chills my bones. He dares me to do something, to retaliate, but I don't. Knowing full well that if I did, he would drive my skull into the ground and tear me apart. I ask him to leave with as much calm as I can muster, but he seems not to listen.
I stand there and take it. Placing my mind somewhere else, I treat the beating with a stoic nature. He can't hurt me if I'm not there. He leaves and I crumble. Slumping to my knees I fall forward and hold my head in my hands. Let the onslaught of tears begin.
The next day he returns to me, his face free of emotion, as if he holds no guilt towards what he has done. He walks up to me, looks me in the eye and says, "You know I love you, right?" I reply with a simple, "Yes." Though deep down I know more could be said. He moves in to hug me and I return the embrace half-heartedly, but he hardly seems to notice. With a final pat on the back, he walks away. Outwardly, everything seems fine, but in my mind I'm counting the days until he again chooses to show how much he loves me.