Bitch

God she is a bitch.

Hurtful

mean

spiteful

digging nails into my mind

soul

heart

draining me

as she whispers

‘none shall be yours.’

If I could kill her

excise her

rip her

away from me

I would.

What hurts the most?

Not the things that she says

it is the voice she speaks in

tearing

wearing

eroding my confidence.

It is my voice.

MY VOICE.

Whispering vile words

making me doubt

until I want to scream

drive her out

wrest control

let me be me again.

Whipped

face in the corner

tears track down my cheeks.

Broken.

I am broken.

She won this round.

Destroying me.

My shame lasts not long

arise I shall

coming back with strength’s desire

kicking that bitch

making her scramble

taking back what is mine.

Oct. 1/18