And now, as it seems, his true colours
come to the surface. Hideous they are,
in their multiple shades of hatred and
putrid sense of love. Is this what marriage
has become?

I cannot read, I cannot write, I cannot
paint, I cannot draw. Flat out, I cannot
create, nor be happy at all. Is this all
about his control? If it is, I want NO
part of it!

Love is NOT about control.

I can only live within my mind.
At least there, I have you to keep
me company. But, he’s there too,
ranting and raving, always threatening.
I fear for my life and I wonder if
I’m better of six feet under.

My children, what would they do …
They suffer just as I, if not more so.
It was not their choice to come into
this world. I regret choosing him
as a father to them. They deserve
so much better! So do I, for that
matter.

If only the berating ones would
leave me be! Leave only the
loving tender voices, so that
I might know happiness and
unconditional love. That is the
only way I’ll find what I am
looking for, trapped within my
own mind.

At least I’ll have you there to
keep me company.