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I Must Be A Punching Bag
Again I became your punching bag. I used to look at you as my saving grace and now you are more like the monster in my closet. I have NO ONE to turn to cause I turned my back on them for the sack of this relationship. I can not stop the racing suicidal thoughts either. I do not want to cut again because I want to look somewhat decent in my casket. I knew better than to choose family and friends over a dude, but I thought this was forever and all we needed is us. Those were your words in the beginning and now today it is just punch after punch.
I wish I was still that strong female but I no longer am. You have broken me down, you have broken down my guard and I got comfortable, I believed in this. For what reason though? I want to protect myself and fight back, however, im afraid you will kill me like you say. I want to take that knowing and kill you in my defense, but New York doesn't have self defense aide. So I will still be fucked, either back in prison doing twenty-five to life or dead and my son motherless.
How and when did I become so weak? Seriously. Believing in us, I let it all go because I believed I was safe. Lies. I am not safe, I am in more danger than before. I can say whatever I want, that doesn't mean put your hands on me. Just because a girl is half dressed and comfortable in her skin, does that mean she deserves to get raped? NO MF. Smh. I have a wicked tongue when im upset or hurting, but you need to learn how to accept that because in the past I wouldn't even say shit I would just go on to da next nigga or bitch and u would be a distant thought while we still in a relationship. How can you have someone with you, in a relationship with you, but still feel alone? I do not see where that makes any type of sense. I can not understand the logic in that. Am I the only one who has ever felt like that?
"Okay Bae I cant breathe.....stop, I cant breathe...." my cry out in agony did not even stop you as you are punching the wind out of my ribs. I am only 120 lbs and five foot six, you are six foot one and like 180lbs. You did not even give a fuck, you just kept hitting me like I was one of these dudes in the street.
I seen tears coming out of your eyes so I wanted to know what was it that I said to hurt you. Instead of answering you almost break my ribs. Now im telling you I am going to plan my suicide, you want to talk and all that. It is too late at this point because I am not going to listen. You are not going to listen.
If I could turn back the hands of time, I wouldn't have caught feelings....
© Beautiiful Disaster