walk home.
screamed at and beaten when you walk in the door.
shouting will come.
right down your throat.
bumps and bruises.
remain from all the torture since five.
u still have that dent, in the back of your head.
from when he hit you with that hammer and glass vase.
after you're hidden
under the bed
hiding, bearly breathing...
he chuckles and laughs.
he says he'll get you next time.
he leaves the weapon.
it's silent form is on the bed,
above your head.
you stop shaking,
trembling with fear and pain,
you hear him in the other room,
hes smokin it up and growing more.
are you afraid?
are you gonna get 'em?
you gonna stand still?
he is harmless now
he cant even focus
disoriented
passed out
as you walk into the room
he sees you again
he gets mad again
its comin back again
do you have it all under control?
he doesnt
you run
and scream as you go
he follows you
sprints after you
its late at night
streetlights shine bright
youve got the knife
you grasp it tight
hes out of your sight
you stand and rest
only to gasp for breath
he comes again
you run again
into the night
into the dark
still wondering
still staggering
at the fact that hes after you
there he is
its not his fault
once you realize
you see pain in his eyes
in your eyes
in our eyes
i stopped running
i didnt want to
when i did
i broke down
begged for mercy
he didnt feel bad
he still hit me
still kicked me
still beat me
still dragged me
by my hair
into the alley
where i became guilty
guilty of sin