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