A traumatic day.

I heard your voice as I awoke,

Screaming my name as you stole my smokes,

I forgot where I was for the longest time,

As I smelled that you were stinking with wine.

I was back in your old flat,

As you threw stuff around like a brat,

I knew that tone of voice so well,

Now I think I’m back in hell.

You would never just let me sleep,

I prayed that this would not end in a weep,

But God never answered my prayer,

Because now I know that he wasn’t there.

I knew exactly what tomorrow would bring,

“I’m so sorry,” you would sing,

You put your mask back on again,

As I tended to my sprain.

It was a mask that firmly stayed on,

You where the knight and I was the pawn,

Until you started to drink alcohol,

Then you were ready to brawl.

But I’m not really stuck in Hell,

It’s just a memory I forgot to tell,

I’m really in a place of my own choice,

But I can still hear that voice.

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