No matter how many times we come back here. No matter how many times I wake up on the floor, bloodied and bruised. No matter how many times you leave, coming back only to be more aggressive. No matter how many times you rape me, beat me, insult me, degrade me.
I’m not breaking. I’m not giving you the satisfaction of watching me fall, hearing my screams. You won’t get any tears, you won’t get any pleas. You don’t deserve to see me break.
And all of the nights that you come back in your drunken stupor, insulting me, beating me, stumbling around blindly, I’m still going to clean you up, lay you on your side, and watch over you to make sure you live through the night. And then I’m going to clean myself up, clean up your mess. Make your coffee. Get your breakfast. Put on my makeup, and clothes to hide the night, and go to work, so I can support your addictions.
You’re not going to see my weak moments. You’re not going to see me hurt. I’m not going to make you feel bad for what you do. But every night you go out, I pray that I’ll get a phone call asking me to identify a body. I give you so much satisfaction, how about you give me a little, too.
But, no matter what, you aren’t going to break me.