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    You came to me angry one night,
    we cursed, argued, and begin to fight.
    I remember you slapping my face,
    and you saying that should put me in my place.

    I remember feeling your feet on my chest, and I couldnt believe I was now in that column with all the rest.

    I remember thinking this cant be happening to me, and I remember say that, that will never be me.

    I remember the gun going off when I was standing in the shower, and holding my ears because the gun had so much power.

    I still see those two bullet holes in my shower wall, I still feel how my legs refused to let me fall.

    I remember you kicking and beating me; it as if it lasted an enternity; but in reality it was only three.

    I remember limping the next day wondering why in the hell did I stay.

    I remember begging you to stop and not hit me again, but that was followed with a slap to my face with an evil grin.

    After you was tired, you laid your head down and went to sleep.
    I remember sitting in that chair where I silently weeped.

    I remember you lying asleep in our bed, and me putting that gun to your head; wishing and praying that I had the courage to kill you dead.

    The next day I awoke with my ego bruised, and my soul crushed, wishing I had of pulled that trigger and created that satisfying rush.

    With a bruised ego, demolished soul, and a huge bruise on my leg, I prayed for another chance for you to watch me kill you dead.

    I remember being afraid to walk by you, because I was too afraid of what you might do.

    I remember hearing you brag to your friends about how I screamed and cried for that night to end.

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    The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

    Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

    MsTae’s Poems (7)

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