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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I always know when it’s last call That’s when he stumbles home He’s armed and he’s dangerous With nowhere to go But even in his drunken sweat He knows his next target - He shuts the windows, And pulls the drapes closed Then he’s yelling through the house I don’t know what it’s about I’m behind the closet door Crouched down on the floor All I can hear is the sound Of my heart beating I don’t even realize I’m screaming As he drags me out by my feet… We have barbeques outside And then he’s Mr. Nice Guy He has all the neighbors fooled With his helpful attitude They never see The monster inside - He pulls the drapes closed, And that monster comes alive He screams and he shouts Rampaging through the house All because of a joke Our kitchen wall has a hole I run behind the bed Scrambling to get under it instead But he yanks me out by the head… I wake up later on the floor Wondering who I am anymore I feel like a pathetic version of me No longer brave, no longer free I dream of leaving him every night But when I’ve left, I’ve paid the price I don’t know how much more I can take - Maybe if I provoke him, He’ll end this charade… I stare at paisley drapes Tan and red swirl in my face I look up at the walls If the walls could speak What would they say? Would they be my Witness’s, Or would they turn and run away? Succumbing to Intimidation? Fearing Retaliation? Would there ever be Any Validation? Any Compassion? Or just more of this Inaction? One time I hid behind the drapes But he found me anyway
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