His words, sunk into me like a topical poison arrow through my heart.
Through my despair, anguish, self hate, all I feel is misery.
His words are like a wound that never heals. He tells me every day, what a piece of shit I am. That I haven’t worked for three years, when I quit school and work, to watch HIS kid so he can work on his career.
“TELL ME I AM NOTHING ONE MORE TIME” I yelled.
“You fucking CUNT, YOU don’t do shit. Your a piece of shit.”
I walked to the room, and went to bed.
As he snored through the night his hateful words ran through my head.
I was over it. I was done. As I imagined placing a knife in his hand sliding it across his throat, as blood spewed everywhere.
Just then his eyes opened, in horror, he choked on his blood, as I looked into his eyes
I wasn’t dreaming. This was real. Only thing to do now was state my peace…
“Now who isn’t doing shit you fucking DICK”
His eyes rolled back into his head as he gurgled his last breath.
I felt alive. I felt free.
This was my independence day.