Broken Bones Don’t Stop Him Killing Me
I had to fight for my life this time, and I did
Broken Bones Don’t Stop Him Killing Me
Rain hits the roof.
He is downstairs waiting.
I hear his breath.
Like a beast.
My arm still twisted.
Pain like fire.
I drag myself upward.
Floorboards groan.
His footsteps follow.
Slow like a drum.
He laughs quietly.
I taste blood.
The knife in his hand.
Light glints cold.
I crawl to the window.
It will not open.
Thunder outside.
Walls closing in.
He whispers my name.
Voice like gravel.
I clutch a glass shard.
Fingers shaking.
He comes closer.
I can smell him.
Broken ribs screaming.
But I stand anyway.
He reaches out.
I strike back.
Silence at last.
Rain keeps falling.
I lean against the wall.
Still alive.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (3)
She did the right thing for she was defending herself. Good job.
I could feel this story in every word. Keep it up.
Nicely done, Marie.