Abuse

Life is abusing me.
I need an officer to come to my door
and notice the hole in my chest
the blood, the bruises, the scars
and whisper to me
that there is a way for me to signal that I'm not okay
so that I won't get hurt again
but the husband with the belt and gun and hammer and fist
in the back room, spitting out the foam to get straight to the beer
will get slammed into a wall
read his rights and charged, convicted, persecuted
I need an officer to come to my door and get me out
Get me the hell out of this contract I didn't sign
this contract called life
because I didn't know that when I said "I do"
simply by taking a breath and therefore deemed alive
it meant that it would turn my face blue
So I need a way to signal that I'm not okay
but since the worst crime I could commit
is to say that I'm not happy
and be convicted as the woman who took life for granted
and since there is no officer with a safe way out
and a code to mask the word abuse
I suppose a gun will have to do.

-anna sluder

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