Domestic Violence Blows

I suppose the blows from your dark fist gets softer with time spent running for my life I mean your face seems to fade a little bit more when I’m sitting in mass or singing in the choir tears always roll just thinking how god must’ve felt watching you blungeon my back always my back remember you rushed behind pretending you were giving me a big hug and brutally crushed my chest with your bare hands what a gifted batterer watching my injured breastbones pertrude on my sides but twisting my arm was the worse only because I got to see the way your tongue hung your mouth like you were working on a car trying to remove a stubborn bolt when a loud pop there you got it my arm hung like slinky the blows I suppose are a bit lighter now overtime I mean useful tips tea bags dark glasses I still have no feeling in the dent in my back where that giant stone landed my doctors treated with gauze cellulitis infection nerve damage I always felt the blow’s should someday become a bit softer over time I never waited around to see your response not the last time I fled it finally sunk in that you was actually going to kill your wife if I stayed it would be my fault that you murdered your own wife I would be the blame for my own murder so I ran and ran even today I look over my broken shoulder wondering which one of my broken bones or bruises were your most triumph which one of my broken bone made you feel the most victorious over me which blow made you feel like the champion wife beater I’m numb wondering what’s goes through your mind after seeing me broken bruised by your powerful fist crippled emotionally weeping disabled afraid clutching my children tell me how tell me true just how would you rate your most famous most memorable blows