Mental

​Those vows 

mean nothing now
As he belittles, abuses
and leaves me in bruises.
Each word tears another piece of my soul
As I roll
desperately into a ball to protect myself,
and my battered, tattered mental health.
But it’s all in my mind, he says, a pathetic ploy
To make him nothing but a puppet, or toy.
My wishes are selfish, my desires a barrier to fun,
How often he dreams me and him were finally done.
I’m just the chain, the noose that tightens around his neck,
the slave master who has him for each beck
And call.
The wife who does nothing at all
But sit as the corners cave,
As the suffocating walls enclose like a grave.
He begs me to snap out of it, to snap
And desperately crack,
my life dissipating and falling like a shower of shards
Collapsing and flopping like a deck of cards.
He grins and rubs his hands with glee
As he sees the hole he’s dug just for me.

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