Breaking Point

Bruised and battered
the ribs and the eye
little by little I can feel my goodbyes
to my family and friends
and those who may care
because though they tried
they simply weren't there.
He says "I'm sorry"
and he hits me again
"It's okay" I say
but I'm praying it will end.
I don't care if I die
at least I wouldn't be here
friends who were close
are no longer near
"You could always leave" and they roll their eyes
"But he loves me" I say
though I know that's a lie.
So I'm worn down and waiting
it's my time to go.
I know I'm a coward
but I don't care anymore.