do you see my face,
i am just like you,
with dreams that i
work for and wish
come true.
but when i get home,
the aspirations,
are replaced by terror
and perspiration.
sometimes it's a word,
or nothing that i say.
he turns for no reason
and this will not go away.
if i seem very distant
or inside my own head,
i have covered my bruises
but fear that soon i will
be dead.
i am one of many, lost
in this cycle of fear.
is there somebody out there
who cares or is willing
to hear.
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