He Stole Me

At first his knocks were timid
but his intentions were depraved.
I felt my darkest fears arising
as he grew more angry and half-crazed.

His kicks and pounds upon my door
became more outraged and resolved
and the moment more horrific
as all sanity dissolved.

I screamed for someone please to help.
I begged against his rising rage.
My home was not my safe place now
but a terrifying cage.

My husband pressed against the door,
would help arrive too late?
As the Monster shouted vile threats,
I feared the worst would be our fate.

I felt filled with such confusion.
What had we done to stir such hate?
This Monster, once our quiet friend,
whatever brought him to this state?

Suddenly the battered door was breached.
My husband fought with all his might.
He was determined he would save us
and he was now prepared to fight.

Then with a simple kitchen knife,
he sliced the Monster's arm.
The door slammed shut as the Coward ran
in petrified alarm.

The police broke through the downstairs door
and subdued the bleeding beast.
I could feel the thumping of my heart.
as I buckled at the knees.

My precious home was now destroyed.
My soul forever scarred.
My mood had sunken to a depth
that was empty, cold and dark.

Still my tears have gone on endlessly.
Sleep evades me every night.
I feel detached from those around me
in an unceasing state of fright.

My mind seems dim and cluttered.
My heart shattered into bits.
My soul cries out for vengeance
as I sink into a hate-filled pit.

And here I am inside that pit,
too weak and tired now to care.
Searching for myself in desperation
but finding me no longer there.

What if I had died that day?
and I'm just a spirit left to roam?
What if I've lost that peace forever
of my embracing "Home Sweet Home?"

For now I choose to just give up
and try my hardest to forget.
These days I just don't have the strength
to ponder my regrets.

Just let me be alone for now
and don't think too ill of me.
Forgive my melancholy
and please don't say that I am weak.

Then perhaps I will return in time,
feeling hopeful and revived.
Proud that I'm still standing
because, somehow, I have survived.