I sit silently suffering.
Not ever knowing what an abusive relationship felt like.
Silently waiting for someone else to turn the knife.
To twist it all the way through.
Being confident is not enough anymore.
Being smart is the enemy.
Having no ability to speak my words.
Suffering in silence.
Waiting for the next thrashing.
That moment when.
I take the gun. Point it to the place where it’s a guarantee.
Silent suffering is what is expected.
Until I suffer no more.