Rage

I can see it building deep inside.
Each time I speak
Each time I move
It gets worse.

I don’t know what I’ve done
Or even if it’s my fault.
But it makes no difference
The rage continues to rise.

No matter the original reason
I know I will be the cure.

When it reaches its peak
He will find an excuse
To vent his rage on me.

He’ll start by screaming and shouting
And then he’ll get physical
A push, a shove and a grip I can’t get out of
That is how it will start.

But not how it will end.
The grip starts to bruise me
And when released his hands will become fists.

I’m lucky if I stay conscious
And end up with just bruises.

But sometimes I pray for the darkness to come
To overwhelm me before he does.

I scream until my throat is raw
Until my voice is gone
But his ears are deaf to me
So I have learnt it is best to stay silent.

Eventually his rage disappears
And he will leave me alone.

He will give me time to recover,
For my bruises and wounds to heal
Before he starts again.