I raise my eyes from the floor
My lip trembles, I try not to cry
I look up at you
Standing
Over me with your fists still clenched
I push myself up until I kneel
Watching
For you to move
Slowly I stand, I don’t wipe my eyes
That would admit to you that they are there
I don’t want you to feel the satisfaction
I want to cry
I want to scream
I want to touch my bruised face
I want to hit you, no
I want to kill you
Instead I stare at you
Standing
1 comment:
It's simple, almost plain, but this adds to a very very strong fealing of reality, as if there were nothing truely ficticious about it.
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