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untitled (mute)

DG Mago

I used to do a lot of things
But life was different back then
I was a different person back then
I used to love myself
I was confident, independent, and pretty
I had a lot of friends and admirers
I had my pick of the litter
And look what I picked
Litter

A lot has happened since I was a naîve girl
Now I am not so sure of myself
Codependent and ugly with very few friends
And even fewer admirers
He has seen to that
My choices have dwindled down to zero
I am stuck
With a man who is everything I told myself I did not want
Ever

I used to love him
I used to worship him
I used to want nothing more than to be beside him
I used to fall to pieces whenever he said my name
Like I said
Used to
Now I despise him
Detest him and loathe him
Now I fear him
Can’t stand the sight of him
And I cringe whenever he says my name
I wish I could get the pieces back
I’d glue it back together and make it whole again
And get as far away from him as I could
But now it is too late
For me and my child
I am scared for me
But terrified for my child
He would find us and beat us
Perhaps kill us
I know he would
He told me as much over and over
And I believe him

I hate him
If I had an ounce of courage left
One morsel of self-respect remaining
I would take a knife and slit his throat
While he was sleeping
If only I could be sure he would be dead
I would do it
My fear of him having enough strength
Left to do harm one more time keeps me stagnant
If I had just a gram of discipline left
I would take a knife and slit my own wrists
While I take a warm bath
And gently drift away from this prison
If only I could be sure I would die
I would do it
My fear of waking up in the hospital
With him at my bedside
Knowing I had to return to my nightmare
But this time with even less courage and strength
Keeps me paralyzed

People have no idea what he is really like
He is like Clark Kent
Everyone thinks he is an angel
They don’t know how he transforms
Not into Superman
But into an evil entity
Someone I have never known
Only have seen on the Hollywood screen
He covers his tracks like the Vietcong
He is a master at infiltration and torture
Psychologically he is terrifying
Nobody would believe me
Shit, sometimes I don’t believe me
That is his gift
He makes me doubt myself
And somehow feel responsible
Imagine that
If you knew me years ago
You would not recognize me either
I was outgoing, strong and vocal
Now, he has beaten me until I am nothing but pulp
Puny, dependent and silent
Even in my solace
My cries are mute

When we have sex
I count the seconds until it is over
Again silent in my horror and rage
He has socialized me into a mute
A blind and deaf being

I hate him
I hate our life together
I hate myself
I hate
I

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