natalyenicole

His swollen knuckles have been clenched into a tight fist, And I know what he wants to do. He won't if only because he can't- I am strong and will not allow myself to be beaten in that way again... Yet for some reason my breath stutters, And my heart skips another beat. He instead gets very close, So close that I can feel the air huffed out of his nose, So close that I can feel blood pumping through the vein popping out of his forehead. I am scared. Not of the things he wants to do, But of what he might tell me. God I am weak, Tears steadily stream down my face, and a ball of hurt builds up in my chest. This is the cycle- Living in a consta