Run fast and hide. It's just his pride
That's hurting him down deep inside.
But I hurt too! Here comes that shoe!
This time it lands and both his hands
Around my neck, but what the heck,
It's that he's drunk. He NOT a punk.
Oh, God! That hurts! My just desserts?
That cannot be. I'm only me;
A nice young girl. If I just twirl
This way and that, he may fall flat
Upon his face. I'll pray for that.
Let him pass out before I shout
Out long and loud, attract a crowd.
Perhaps they'll help. Was that a yelp?
Oh, God! That hurts, that really hurts.
My blood is coming out in spurts.
The night turns black, no turning back.
It's too late now. "You stupid cow"
You should have run, have found the sun.
The sun's up now. It comes somehow
Each morning new, annoints those who
Have borne the pain, again, again
I'm grown up now. I'll show him how
I use MY fist. I have a list
of things he's done. I will not run
or hide in shame. HE is to blame
Not me - NOT ME!!
I'm everything that I can be
At last I'm free, free to be me!
I'm not the child I was you see.
I've grown a shell. It serves me well.
It keeps me from the Hell of Hell.
But sometimes in the dark of night
I feel a sound, I smell a sight
That scares me still; I never will
Forget his face, the harsh embrace
Of one so cruel, so commonplace.
He cannot hurt me any more
Unless I let him in my door,
My life, my dreams, my many schemes.
So hard to live, but I can try
No one will ever see me cry
Again. AGAIN! Say it again
I will be free - I will be me!
I will be me - I will be free!
Again, again - as I once was
A child again, because - because
I love the child I never was.
Joan E.M. Cornish - January 18, 2002.