Who Protects Me From You? Poem by Reginald Goodridge

As you weild your cutlass
You smirk, you grip the handle
Slashing through emotions
My bones are cracked, to even the marrow

I thought, strong, yes, I'm strong
But you proved me a fool
You are so skillful with your weapon
I'm bent, manipulated, as just your tool

Oh, we battle, or so I thought
For I fight with here and now words
And you cut low, beneath the belt
Gashing, biting, slurs, past tense, all absurd

You yell every now and then
I may have caught a good blow
Reminding you of things you did
Didn't do, or things you should possibly know

And here you are, with reinforced vigor
A mother to supply you with ammunition
I just want a simple girl, not a war hardened hero
Nor do I wish to scale the walls of lovers ambition

I swear and I protest, I have been fatally wounded
Your smirk and your smile are saddening to say the least
Please, be kind, end my pain and kill me quickly
An angel you are at times, though today, you are the beast