The Blonde Quill

I didn’t fight it

When he gripped me too hard and left a bruise,

When he’d yell at me for hours after drinking too much,

And I didn’t fight it

When he put me down at every chance he’d get.

I couldn’t fight it

Because deep down

Some morbid, self loathing

Part of myself

Knew I deserved it.

Knew that I’d made messes I didn’t dare clean up,

Hurt those around me and allowed selfishness

To dig its claws too deep inside my heart.

So I came to that altar of judgement willingly,

Accepting my punishments

Under the watchful eyes

Of the sun and the moon,

Those celestial beings growing weary

Of my complacency.

My lack of fight.

I let him ruin me

And in the end,

I believe it was cosmic retribution

After all.