We try to change for each other,
As we know we should,
But the golden bands on our fingers tie us together,
Our souls, our bodies, our lives.
But, alas, there are strands,
Strands which are have darkened and stained,
Strands which have fallen out of place,
When your hand bruised my pale skin.
When you come into our alleged home,
With your alcoholic breath and mangled hair,
I know that there is no possibility of change on your part,
And so the burden, which is too havy to hold, falls on mine.
You collapse on our half-burned bed and lumpy mattress,
And curse about your hollow and unglamorous life,
But the glass has been smashed already,
And you can't glue it back together without seeing the cracks.
The photos which were once the goings-on of my everyday,
With laughing, with smiling, with love,
Have now become memories,
My sanctuary of hope in which I become lost in.
When I watched you walk down the aisle, those many years ago,
With your flushed cheeks and light steps,
Now all I hear are the intense storms of your heels,
My lovely wife, you have changed, so I must leave.
This poem was created to raise awareness that violence in relationships can come from woman; not just men.
. Alright, enough blabbing now, onto the review.
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