I could take it no more
It had been weeks after our country was struck by corona,
And my happy marriage slowly turned into a violent marriage,
My husband had turned into a cannibal always using his masculinity to torture me.
Beating the hell out of me was his daily dose before he slept.
He started with spitting words on me
whenever I asked for money to cater my six children.
His shouting gradually turned into my beating,
he would grab anything like knife and throw at on me.
I knew I had to be strong for my kids
and no matter how he would beat me, kick me and hit me
I always forced a smile to my children.
I didn’t know my compromises would make him more inhuman.
He continued hurting me,
allowing toxic masculinity to overcome him,
forgetting all we had been through together.
I persevered all he did till the day he threw a panga on me,
expressing the villain, him.
The panga cut me on my shoulder,
and I had to leave the house till the next day.
I slowly grew tired of my walls
being witnesses of the constant fights
between me and the person who had been the love of my life.
The better life I dreamt with him
with him daily, slowly turned to a horror movie.
I hate to remember how it all started
but slowly, as the days passed by
once beautiful home turned into boxing arena
my body as the boxer’s punching bag
no matter how much I tried to avoid arguments with him
he had turned to a fierce demon
who seemed to try and remove a corpse from my throat,
and shout out to my face that when I took it,
it was alive.
I had persevered everything,
with the hope that he would one day realize the pain
he caused me and love me once again but he never did.
Each day I would pray for him and my marriage
but I quit because he destroyed me
and made me feel I was difficult to love,
that I was just an object of pain and depression.
I chose to keep trying to seek love
but his failure to read my signs added to my wounds
which increased my pain, growing to fear,
fear into a great feeling of insecurity,
insecurity into hate,
and before I could even get over it, it turned to rejection.
I and I had to leave with my fully packed suitcase
not with clothes nor shoes but with my pierced heart,
the only treasured belonging I had,
I had to look for a tailor to mend it
to make it brand new,
give me the essence of true love
since I had already finished reading the last page of the novel
My Life In Hell, I had called it quits.