I killed the thing I loved
- Billy Bud Fraser
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- Joined: 31 Jan 2022, 02:59
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I killed the thing I loved
Been punched on the head as cigarettes are used to burn before slowly being stubbed out on his thigh.
An evil man inflicts this pain, for this is what he has done and is unable to justify.
The victim in this story is so traumatized by the man she loves that can't explain why.
Silence is his answer for everything and the regret on his face is no excuse.
When caring, trying to comfort, to loving turns into abuse.
Where sexual mutual choking suddenly becomes a dance on the hangman's noose.
Being restrained by his hands that are gripping far too hard for domination.
He betrayed her trust and her respect when it came to penetration.
She was in so much pain and he could not hear her scream.
The situation was beyond belief, how can someone so kind be so mindless and brutally extreme.
You should never have to tear a lover's face to wake them from a violent sexual stream.
You're living your worst nightmare while they think it's a blurry, hazy, lucid dream.
You have to draw blood to make him conscious of how he is making every part of you so incredibly sore.
When he stops, you run and hide to the safety of a locked bathroom door.
While he has gone to another room, you can feel the vibration off him banging something on the kitchen floor.
Reliving the image of being a prisoner in your own home which has happened before.
Last time someone punched a hole through the bathroom door.
She told him this story and he promised her that is something she would never have to worry about anymore.
So broken promises, betraying her trust and self abuse is something she won't entertain.
When he comes round, it's a poor excuse of a man full of self pity, a sad remain.
A look of shame on his face, self hatred and no amount of I am sorry will make up for the pain.
The look of him trying to cry has as much effect as a wet hanky in the pouring rain.
He may as well be a poo bag full of holes.
Something she can no longer handle even though they used to share the same goals.
Their whole relationship was ruined in one night.
He swears it will never happen again but she thinks it might.
Waking up next to someone hitting themselves is a horrible uneasy fright.
Then what followed is worse than the most vile and nasty verbal fight.
How can he do something so wrong when he was meant to be Mr right.
Their future plans aligned, now there's nothing in sight.
A blind man trying to solve a riddle written in braille on scattered jigsaw pieces.
This is how he describes his head, full of noise that increases.
His head is a constant war within itself.
Abuse, phycological, physical, alcohol, substance and self has weakened his mental health.
His mind constantly changes when it comes to plans and his financial wealth.
He works long hours, with no breaks , doing stuff on the side but does not save.
One day he is an emperor, the next day a slave.
I am a man who no longer deserves anything good in my life.
Whenever I find true happiness, it's over as quickly as a gun versus a knife.
It only took a few minutes to become a stranger to the girl I pictured as my wife.
Too much to drink, concussion and not self awareness was madness.
It was all self inflicted, so I don't deserve anything but everlasting sadness.
There is no excuse for what happened, I can only say that it was not me.
Too much alcohol, a blow to head, mind asleep made me become something I never thought possible I could be.
There is a part of me that too much alcohol brings out I prayed you would never see.
The other part of me is not the animal you experienced.
You know me better than anyone, except from my dark side, you are inexperienced.
That was not my dark side that night, that was something totally new.
Mental issues and a concussion is no excuse for what I did to you.
Even my other side I told you was unstoppable would not hurt someone I love.
When I got mad I would punch walls with my fist or boxing glove.
I would break tables and bring up home truths that I had buried deep.
I have never laid hands on a girl or hurt someone while I sleep.
I pray you don't actually believe that I would ever hurt our child.
I have never hurt anyone I love when I have gone wild.
Except for emotions by saying what I'm thinking when I am mad.
This always comes out sounding so bad.
It sounds negative what I am trying to say.
But I don't mean it, it just comes out the wrong way.
I struggle with words and being able to deal with what I am feeling.
You are the first person I have not been scared to admit what I am concealing.
There is nothing to you that I am not scared of revealing.
You are my best friend, never judging me for dealing.
My sins, my issues, the noise in my head, just being around you has miraculous healing.
When I woke up that morning I really did want to walk in front of a moving car.
I saw what I did to myself and had this guilt I had gone too far.
I never knew what I did, if I did, I would of jamp in front of a lorry.
Take the cowards way out, because there is no way I would ask you to accept I'm sorry.
I wish I died, but I need to suffer this pain and prove I am the person that you fell in love with.
Your bud, the poet, that struggles to speak, spell, the intoxicated wordsmith.
Words can be symbols, a cluster of bruises, cigarette and windproof lighter burns.
The more horrible his actions the more scars he earns.
A permanent reminder of What he has done to the girl he loves he learns.
Little boy blue sat on the kitchen floor making sure he will never forget what he has done.
He has no future, only the memory of losing his true love, his fate, the girl that is the one.
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