As her fist makes contact again,
I feel my nose bleed.
She is not angry now,
But later more will come.
Sometimes I wish,
That she'd kill me now,
And end these 7 years of abuse.
I'm slowly giving up,
Slowly leaving this world.
Why has God put me here,
Just to go though this abuse?
Everyday she causes more blood and vomit.
Every time she calls me "It" or "Boy"
I lose her as a mother.
This is my life,
This is my story.
