Toxic

Curled up on the bedroom floor , foetel like, her back against the wall, a position she has assumed a hundred times before, hands cupped over her ears to deflect his hateful barbs, that spew from his lips, hateful accusations, toxic. He'll soon wear himself out and crash down on the martial bed, leaving all his venom swirling around her head, she is used to it now, so tears will not fall, but a new life beckons and soon she will answer it's call, The morning brings more spite, her protestations are all in vein, so she walks away from one storm and out into the rain.