Hollow Projection

(poems go here) You lied to me, And I was naive enough to believe you. You told me pretty half truths That I used to survive. You used my fragility as weakness And I used your projection as truth. You hit me, Apologies masked by the flowery worded bull shit coming out your mouth I stayed. Your steal edges words entered my brain. Your poison began coursing through my veins. I was now ugly. The image of disgust. Strands of hair fell as the scissor snipped away pieces of my beauty. I was now fat. The image of obesity. Pounds fell off my bones as my mouth vomitted away my soul. Make up fused with my skin, Attempting to hide your marks of love. My words censored My friends choosen My pain ignored For love. I grew exhausted My love faded into fear As every bruise another badge of stupidity The river of lies dried. Without emotion I lived to please. My ear drums rang as the screams of my individuality echoed in the empty cavern where I used to be The sharpness of being hollow hurt more then the anger of his fist keeping me in place. The dressing room mirror screamed honesty as the extent of his wrath was unvailed with every piece of clothing that hit the floor. My body showed the tracks of where he had been. Skin a rainbow of colors. Every breath showed ribs that where once unseen. Shoulder length hair teased my face a symbol of defeat. Old zig-zags raced like fire across both wrists. The clothing being tried on were a complete reflection of what he wanted me to look like. Sobs convulsed my body. Eyes seeing the shadow of my smile. I found the catch to his lock and my voice was free as the necklace hit the tile. His control was left behind wrapped in preppy pink clothing. I scrounged around the rack for sweat pants, naked, battered body on display for all to see. Pins dropped from my hair. Hard from hair stray, finally shook free after months of entrappment. Outside the dressing room. Eyes full of confusion, he confronts me. Months of hunger tear at my stomach. Heat eminates from his body, A sign of aggression. Jaw tight he leads me out of the store. Hollowness fades as I become whole once again. I stop. He tugs. I pull. His grip a cobra on my wrist. The words coming out of my mouth stab him. I don't stop even has I feel myself split in half. Part of me seeking freedom. Part of me begging for forgiveness My weaknesses are aparent. His hand comes across my face. Anger through my empty veins. My small fist collides and blood trickles. The taste of salt invades my mouth. The sharpness of teeth against skin. The tugging recommences. I fight against him. I finally fight for me. Releasing me, he knows he's lost control. Leaving me stranded, I wander. The maze of stores a blur as my face swells. At last a symbol of abuse. The smell of food calls my attention. Money buys a Big Mac, a side of fries and soda. Salt stings my eyes. My eyes open to the months I've wasted. Seven blocks of torture as I lost myself in what I thought was love. The laugh bulids from within. A laugh I haven't heard in months. He strength was minimal I was able to break free with only fragile strength. My fingers intertwine. Grease painting my fingers in fattening deliciousness. Stomach, used to abuse, fills quickly. I shove food down my throat, nausea over whelms me as I fight to keep food down. The pain of swallowing is welcomed after months of vomitting. The payphone is my life line. I walk past stores in a blur seeking an exit. The reflection in the glass is not me. But it's not her either. It reflects a projection of what used to be.