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She watches silently as he readies for a night out with his friend
In the pit of her stomach she knows how this will end
But she keeps her mouth shut, just like he thinks she should
She’d break down crying, begging him to stay if she could
He barely looks in her direction as he closes the door
Her anxiety begins to rise more and more
Every hour her eyes nervously shift to the clock
Every little sound has her straining to hear the lock
Her eyes are fighting a battle with the sandman
As the fear drives her to keep them open as long as she can
One o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock, four
She is defeated, she cant fight it anymore…
He’s sitting on the side of the bed hovering over her
She wakes with such a rush that everything is a blur
All she can make out is his evil and wicked smile
She can smell cheap whiskey and bile
Before she can react he's on top of her, pinning her to the bed
His eyes look glossy, empty, and red
One hit, two hit, three hits, four
She is defeated, she can’t fight him anymore
This was lovely to read, I liked how you started and ended this. Thank you so much for sharing this with us. Sending you hugs to help you.
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"Dance is your pulse, your heartbeat,
It’s the rhythm
of your life.
It’s the expression
in time and movement,
in happiness, joy, sadness and envy.
-Jacques d’Ambroise''
The emotions and descriptions in this are amazing!
Do you ever get a little bit tired of life
Like you're not really happy but you don't wanna die
Like you're hanging by a thread but you gotta survive
'Cause you gotta survive