Your voice once held dominance over me and as far as I was concerned I’d sealed it under a sarcophagus of scars formed out of my own dried blood, spit, tears, bruised ribs and broken dreams.
I’d sit in violent silence,
Fearful of the silent violence,
Your hands reach out to clasp and measure the circumference of my neck.
My existence a hinderance before you,
I loved when I should of abhorred you,
I tried but I couldn’t ignore you,
Each time convinced I adored you.
Those infectious inflexions erupting off-key,
Singular sharpened slurs slashing my severed psyche,
an artificial alpha assailing as I seek asylum from the rage,
then I’m smothered by malevolent affections in your asphyxiating cage.
My disorientated state misidentifies his robust lust for some kind of affection,
my amnesic and unyielding trust,
ripe for manipulation.
His septic apoplectic ways,
an obtuse and wretched medusa gaze,
abusive love which birthed malaise,
reduced to pieces and set ablaze.