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The Word Is Abused
Well, he didn't hit me
All that often, I guess.
Just the same, he did it
And sure made me a mess.
Once he just kept punching
On my face and my head
Until I landed, splat!
Butt on the floor, instead.
Not all that much damage
If you mean physical-
Blood in my eyes, ripped ear
Patched at the hospital.
Had to take time off work,
Children couldn't see that.
Right! He regretted it
But still blamed me. So pat.
Once he punched -hard- my mouth-
I'd remarked on a show
As he and his friend had,
So, he let his fist go.
Mostly he damaged me,
Very persistently,
So emotionally
And most consistently.
I hadn't realized
The harm he was doing
At the time, all the time-
But I was ungluing.
So much for truest love,
So much for devotion.
Feelings of worthlessness
Would flood as an ocean.
Now I am much stronger.
Weakness has become strength
But it's a constant fight
To regain worth, of length.
