Somewhere far and away
echoes a distant memory...
A memory wich is pleasant
to behold,
yet oddly vague and surreal...
It is almost as if though,
it never happened...

Was there a time
when you looked at me
with love?
Was there ever a time
when you held me
with tenderness?
When did that
start to fade away?

Was it the first time
I woke up
from choking
with your fingers locked around my throath.
Was it when you
pinched my side as hard as you could
in public, but hidden from view;
and when I said Stop it!
and pushed you away
you acted like you never knew.
Was it when you drained our bank account
and spent it all,
yelled at me for over shopping
and let me take the fall.
Or was it when I watched you throw a spider
at that little girl to make her cry
and when I asked you why you did it,  you said;
because it's funny, that's why.
Or maybe it was when you told me
that everybody hates me
and most of all your family.
Or when you told me you knew
who your real friends were
because they would help you bury
my body if you ever killed me;
heck, they would even help you kill me.

I guess all of the above apply.
That is why I can't for the life of me
figure out why
I was clinging on to surreality
trying to turn that into reality.
It's exhausting business,
palliative care...
That's why I got the hell out of there...