I could never understand why you keep beating me up and then apologize as if the “sorry” will remove the scars on my face.
I could never figure out what goes on your mind every time you raise your fist in ought to bash some discipline into my ever-struck bruise embellished face.
Isn’t the fear in my eyes enough for you to know how much I respect you?
Isn’t my silence quiet enough for you to understand that you rule over me and there’s nothing I can ever say to you in attempts to disrespect what you stand for?
All the make-up in the world could never be enough to hide all these scars, because your scars were never meant to heal but to stick.-You know sometimes I ask myself if you’re doing all this to prove that my beauty was meant for your eyes only and now you’ve finally managed to destroy all of it and I’m now pretty useless to those who’ll want to see the beauty I posses or maybe you’re the only guy for me and no one else should ever notice me?-
I mean all the clothes in the world could never be enough to cover all the bruises that bedazzle my pain infused once sacred but now profane body.
All the lies I’ve told have left me questioning my sanity. I mean no sane person could keep walking into a door they’ve lived with forever. No sane person could keep slipping and hitting the door handle.
How did you get so heartless? All my screams go unheard, all my cries go unfelt and my pleads are simply in vain.
You almost had me fooled, believing that taking your beatings means I’m feeling your love and that all the anger is caused by my flaws.
You had me staying up all day and night trying to perfect myself for a beast who never even noticed my efforts. The more I fixed myself it’s the more you got angry and the more you got angry I had to tolerate the abuse in hopes that you’ll one day wake up a better man and we’ll live happily ever after.
…but I’m really sorry man. All the beatings I can’t take no-more, all the make-up I can’t afford no-more and all these clothes I can’t stand no-more because the heat is simply unbearable.
Staying with you is some sort of suicidal attempt.
…because about a million times I’ve choked on my screams,
because about a thousand times I’ve drowned in my tears and about a hundred times I’ve hanged my precious soul with the pain caused by your anger and hatred.
I’ve been waiting for you to change and go back to being that Golden Man of mine for way too long and now waiting seems too impossible because to you change seems a bit too out of reach.
I’m really sorry but I’m done being your punching bag and don’t you dare say sorry because that sorry of yours will never remove all these emotional, mental and physical scars caused by your doubtful manliness.
This is my goodbye and I pray to God that this one’s forever because now all my efforts will go into erasing every ounce of who you once were to me.