A Ticking Heart

Shhh ... can you hear it ? most call it a heart beat but to me it has no rhythm . Doctors call it your pulse . I call it a ticking time bomb. To me that ba boom turns into tick tick tick . I can remember the first time you told me you hate me and I thought they were just words you know sticks and stones. Until your actions began to shout louder that your words. I would constantly hear your favorite three words utter out of your mouth . I hate you , I hate you , I hate you , I hate those words but i became accustom to it. Tick Tick Tick. Your words became edible to me that I ate them because they became my daily main course. You started off with a slap with a slap here or there , because a drank was at the tip of your fingers. But that to I became assimilated to. ba boom , ba boom Then you stepped your game up to punching me and aiming for my face as if you were a boxer and my face was your punching bag. the beating began to add up and like math my bruises multiplied. Ba boom , Ba Boom , Ba Boom My make up was my disguise not only was I masking my black eyes but my pain wasn't suppose to be shown either. I started to realize as time goes by my smile makes you want to through up even when your sober and my happiness makes you want to beat me even more than usual. Only if you knew how much I wanted to hit you back so that your bruises would match mine. I would love to hit you in the head like you did to me so that on top of the hangover you have now you have a headache. I want you to know how it feels to be beaten every time your parent rap their five phalanges around a liquor bottle. Everytime I you raise your hand to lay it on my face leaving black rings around my eyes and red marks on my cheeks I pray that my time has ran out.