A City of Rag Dolls

in a city of rag dolls
you will see the tears in her eyes
but you will never notice the storm she breeds inside
her heart jumps just a little when she thinks of his love
it flinches because it’s in pain but that’s ok it will go away
you think it should be easy
that you’re strong
but eventually, you learn that it’s not so easy to get up and move on
because it’s not his fault
his fist only met your cheek when you did something wrong
his fingers slipped over the bruise and he cried, ashamed
he asked me to forgive him
but from my mouth, nothing came
a bleeding cut and soft smile from me was enough for him to become tame
he picked me up and put me to sleep
singing songs of empty promises that I wish I could hate
.
.
.
.
.
I’m sorry
I’m sorry I didn’t learn how to be strong
that I didn’t just leave the first time he threw me on the floor
it should have been enough reason for me to walk away and be gone
but he was my prince charming
the hero in the stories I told myself when I was five
he was the one who was going to save me from all the pain
and stop me from going insane
he was the love of my life you see he held me with so much grace
not the one who never bothered to clean the blood off of my face
my head on his chest never felt out of place
and though I liked the comfort of his body he seemed to prefer for me the hard ridges of walls and splinters present across the wooden doors
I wonder when it went from
“I’m sorry please forgive me”
to
“it’s a light bruise thank god no one will see”
his regret dissipated
and so did my sympathy
I was angry at the alcohol
at my peers who I feared wouldn’t believe me
I was angry at the situation
and that stupid night when I decided to go out to a party only to meet who I thought would be the love of my life
I’m angry at his mother for not teaching him to be good
I’m angry at his dad for telling me his son was misunderstood
I’m angry at him for not stopping after the first time he hit me from where he stood
but most of all
I’m angry at this city of rag dolls where there are thousands of others like me
I’m angry that no one reached out and instead just wept alone hopelessly
I’m angry that they thought the bruise was there because i was clumsy
I’m so angry
but
I’m leaving
finally