She curled up in the corner of the sofa, makeup streaked, knotted hair, swollen lip and throat. He slammed the door and she heard the deadbolt turn with his key, locked in again but what does it matter?
She had taken his keys while he showered, to unlock the mailbox and gather the mail, she just wanted to know why he kept a padlock and a bolted flap across the top slot. That was all, she wanted to pick up the effin mail and for that she paid, again.
He had taken the only car, the house phone and nailed a board across the back door from the outside.
She thought how stupid she was just like he said, as she sat there on the ugly sofa he bought, just like he picked out this damn house  without her doing anymore than putting her name on the dotted line before even seeing it. Why didn’t she see the signs, the controlling tendencies, or did she see them but chose to ignore them because he “loved” her and would take care of her?
Continuing to sit there on that horrible hated sofa she contemplated suicide but there was not a pill in the house and she was too afraid to hurt herself with a razor or knife. Getting up she went to the kitchen for water, sipping it she realized her throat hurt much worse than any other time he had choked her, trying to speak she realized she had been left with no voice….

*****had the tv on, an ad for the humane society came on and I heard all the sadness spoken of and the phrase left w/o a voice…inspiration and a life experience came together in this one.

A Piece of Your Mind Please

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