Broken
You broke me slowly.
So slow I didn't even notice until it was done.
Now I lay beaten and bloodly upon the floor.
Hoping that you'll have the mercy to finish me off.
Though the glint in your eyes tell me other wise.
"I'm not done with you yet darling,"
You croon softly as your hands caress the brusies you left.
You turn and leave me broken on the floor.
What do I have left to do?
I have nothing left to do.
I'm just a broken mess upon the floor.
Hoping someone will take the time to clean me up
And get me away from you.
The lamp throws your shadow across the floor.
It covers me in it's inky embrace.
You come back with that sneer across your face.
The blackness of the gun clear in your hands.
"You have a choice my darling dear.
Will you stay here with me broken on the floor?
Or do you wish to see your Mother again?"
You hold the pistol up as I stare down thee muzzle I see myself.
A child with dreams full of hope.
Instead of the woman I am laying broken on the floor.
I do not want to die, though I wish not to be broken on the floor.
My choice clear in your eyes, you sneer.
"What I thought you'd do, darling dear."
You put the gun in the drawer.
Leaving me alone, broken once more.
You climb the stairs to bed.
My resolve is done.
I know what to do.
I slowly make my way up close to tears the whole time.
I softly get the gun out and head up the stairs.
Hidind it behind my back you turn to see me there.
"Darling I see your better now."
You come closer.
My hand brings the gun around to point it in your face.
My hand trembles around it.
You snicker and sneer.
"What are you going to do with that?"
I loved you once I think.
But I hope it's gone for the sake of my resolve.
I pull the tigger with a cry of fear and loss.
You fall dumbstruck on the ground.
Your last sight was me.
Broken but still able to break you.
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Not one of my nicer poems.