Finis with You

I don’t remember how you smelled,
nor the sound of your voice.
Your face is a distant memory,
your laugh– lost to time.

I only remember the terror, the hiding,
the always looking over my shoulder. . .

WAITINGmaid1

for the next phone call at midnight,
for the next foul thing to appear at my door.

Hurled words and objects were
your idea of “love”
Grab, break, hurt, mock. . .
pretend it’s passion, destroy it all.

Nothing left of “Us” but your malice
A stain of what I thought we were.

FINIS

There were, are,  never will be
memories of YOU.