For Lynda

His mouth is like a fist.

Beating into me

His harsh words.

Leaving his mark on

My heart and mind.

I am like the prisoner,

Under lock and key.

Seeing sunshine only

Through bars.

I am like the battered housewife,

Living quiet as death,

Walking like air,

So not to be noticed.

I remember when his mouth,

Like silk,

Wrapped me in soft, delicate words.

Sending me, body and mind

Into ecstacy.

I was like young debutante,

Surrounded my love and beauty.

Holding what seemed like

The whole world.

I was like the rich man,

Wating for nothing.

Because I had everything,

He gave me everything.

Until one day,

He took it all away.

He pulled my heart out at

The roots, as if it were a tree,

In the way of a new road.

Now I sit and grasp

Onto any sign

That he still loves me,

That I am still beautiful.

But his mouth,

Is like a fist.

And it beats,

And beats,

And beats me.

Leaving marks so severe,

I’m not sure

I can ever heal.