The Him, In You.

I’m afraid to look into your twilight brown eyes
Because his stares were dark,
And not so obtainable.

I’m afraid to hear and accept your soothing compliments because
I can remember the nasty emotions his taunting screams caused me to feel.
The amount of pressure I used to muffle his words by placing my hands over my ears,
wishing I could un-hear what had already been said.

I’m afraid to hold your welcoming hands
because even though the physical bruises he left are no longer visible,
my heart can still feel his beatings.

I can’t let go of the feeling of being dictated and taken advantage of.
His wandering, over powering hands caress my useless and timid body.
Horrified of all the possible things that he could do if I told him to stop.

With every touch I cringe, but he’s completely oblivious.

But you,
You handle me like porcelain menagerie,
Gentle with every touch.
Care in every word that spills out of your mouth.
Always putting an effort to make sure a smile is present
on my worn out face.
And even with my curves, the stories within my arms, and the bags under my eyes
You tell me I’m beautiful, everyday.

As for he was once just like you,
compassionate and humane,
Beautiful and wise.
Now I am frightened of the thought that a little bit of him might exist
in a little bit of you.

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