Behind Closed Doors

I am tired I am weak I am fragile I sit in the corner My weary head rests on bent bruised knees The dark and musty room reflects how I feel inside My bloodstained clothes are torn I sob into my dress As I sit Behind closed doors Salty tears sting my face Pain sears through me I tremble with fear It hurts I am critically wounded I am not good enough Hopeless and useless he mocks I made him do this It is my fault My drained body and hands shake I want to sleep The door slams Has he gone? I can’t take any more My battered body lays still In the dark stale corner Silence... glorious silence He is gone No more shouting, slapping and kicking No more clenched fists forcefully contacting my face Swollen and sore, I cry and scream He gags my mouth with his fist My jaw cracks Pain surges through me He doesn’t care An uncontrollable rage, a furnace within himself Angry eyes, empty, dark & dangerous. Evil. I want to move My broken bones prevent My frail shattered body screams in agony Tortured, crimson blood pours from my wounds My tattered clothes Covered in the sticky red substance My battered, bruised and damaged body All tell my story Of suffering Of domestic abuse Exposing me as a victim Of what goes on behind closed doors I lay down, too tired to sit I feel my life draining from me I close my eyes I need to sleep I am weak I am tired I am fragile I am not scared any more As my life ebbs away I am happy to leave Do not cry for me I suffer no more The angels have come to rescue me