The relief

It’s there when you put the blade to your skin. As you drag it through the skin cells, and create a wound. As the blood spills. But then it’s gone. Within the blink of an eye, it’s gone. 

It’s there when you throw up your dinner. As you’re hurling in your bathroom. As tears gather in your eyes. But then it’s gone.You catch your breath, brush your teeth, and it’s gone. 

It’s there when you tell him to do whatever he pleases with you. As you take your clothes off, and lie down to be used. As you compromise yourself and allow someone to treat you as if you’re worthless, because that’s what you are. But then it’s gone. He gets his release and then he caresses your chin as if you’re valuable, like it was all a game. He kisses your forehead and tells you you’re beautiful, and it’s gone.

It’s there when he throws the punch. As you trace your fingers along your jaw, to your lips, and you lift the hand in front of you, and you see there’s blood on it. As you turn the other cheek and get hit again. As the dizziness embraces you and it’s hard to stand on your feet. But then it’s gone. He gasps and is by your side in a stride. He apologizes under his breath and begs for forgiveness, and it’s gone.

It’s there when you stub a cigarette on your hip. As you watch your bruises in the mirror. As your empty nail beds brush against your covers. But then it’s gone. It only lasts a moment, and then the moment’s gone.

Relief, sweet relief, it won’t really stay, until I’m dead. 

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