Him.

I’m falling apart because I can’t outsmart him;
Wins every time,
spins his words and mine into a maze of his sick game.

It’s a shame really because I feel better truly 
with myself
except I can’t reach, 
can’t reach that key on the shelf
to set me free from himself. 

Keeps on destroying my life. 
Holding on like I’m still his wife. 
Has me reaching for the knife to my own throat 
just to escape his boat, his storm, his sea, me. 
The strife is too much and I’ve had enough.

Enough.
Enough is enough.

Stop putting us through this stuff.
The fuck.
Back up. 
Get away from us. 
Take a bus to hell.
Leave and farewell.
Let go of this spell.
We feel ill.
Spilled over.
Haunted by a man who digs closer under our skin until he tortures from within.
Spinning from him.
Don’t want him to win but kinda hard to walk with a fin
like a mermaid stranded;
I can’t navigate his land. 
Trojan horse with no remorse. We can’t reveal him. 

Yet.

Bet ya I will.
Got a fire enough to kill 
over his thrill of choking us. 
To be free is a must.
I can’t breathe.
Seething with anxious memories and the trauma is like wildfire inside of me. 

Why can’t we leave?

Creating a chasm between real love I had and I can’t jump over this canyon.
Didn’t mean to let him infect my love 
but his will is his way. 
My angels above please help me.
The more the ground quakes 
the more we break 
and there’s only so much we can take.

He’s a fake. Why can’t the world see?
He smiles at you but snarls at me. 
Manages to fool even the authorities. 
Why can’t he get bored of me
and leave us be?

Free.

What is it he wants? Why does he haunt? 
He flaunts it too. So proud he knows how to break apart the love of two who deserve each other,
hurting his own kids and their mother. 

He hovers over like a dark cloud.
He’s a hurricane I can’t explain. 
Trying to find the words to describe a man who’s insane. 
He dug a grave in my brain and rots away,
infects the soil of my soul and the holes in the ground get bigger. 
Ready to pop the trigger and dig her a grave. Save us. 

I figured a righteous path was the way.
Yet he insists on a prolonged stay.
He’s not welcome but barges in,
freely commits his sin in my house,
my home within. 
I just want to be free from him. 

Lie after lie after lie. 
Nightly cries. 
His fires burn my desire to stay in this body 
he keeps attacking.
Hacking into the system and inserting a code,
a viral infection, attack mode. 
Can’t delete him. Trying to defeat him.

How do you win against a sociopath and his wrath?
How on earth do I survive this man? 
How can I leave when he pulls at all our sleeves, 
shackles our feet to concrete?

Pushing me to want to meet my maker.
We are innocent; God, take her and the kids and protect us.
We intend to help the world but it’s hard to do when his tornado swirls, destroying the town and all around him.
Damn. Please. How do we win?

How do I get him out of my skin?

He works so hard to fit in.
Fools others with his grin and persistence.
When really he’s full of shit and resistance. 
He goes the distance to suck the life away.
And still he stays.
Makes sure he slays us to completion,
the depletion is a slow death and nothing reaches him.
Ill in the mind and wicked in the soul, 
he’s so cold.
He’s a winter that lasts all year.
Frozen with fear and fed up with what he yells into my ear. 
His screaming is all we hear. Trying to access the better things inside but instead we have to hide 
from the exploitation 
hoping we could make it.
And he keeps on faking it.
Acts as if he wants to add to our lives but our light, he keeps on taking it. 

Waking everyday in dismay. 
Don’t want him to stay. 
Wish he would go away.
He’s a leech,
screech each time we have to peel him off.
Our skin soft and exposed to a point of showing bones. 
He cuts us open that deep.
And still it’s us he intends to keep,
not from love but need to feed,
his own personal greed.
And here I am trying to do every good deed.
Here I am trying to plant a seed of hope
but he keeps unearthing the roots that grow. 
At the end of my rope when he impedes on our lives. 

This slippery slope
we keep sliding downhill
as he glides, imposes his will
and rides on our backs until all the bones crack.
So heavy he is -
I want to put him down and run from his frowns.
Yet he pins us all to the ground.
No help to be found.
Looking around to see who is watching,
not understanding why they can't see our misery.
Everything the system does is to please he and stomp on us three. 

Ready to flee
Ready to flee my body
Ready to fly

Because I can't cry anymore.
I can't breathe with my neck stepped on and pressed to the floor.
Vocals chords muted and our gasps disputed. 
Rooted in the idea that we are all crazy and he's no bad guy.
Why?

Why don't you see.

Help us three.

-Kristina Rose Garcia [2021]

Published by misskris726

Bronx poet, artist and educator.

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