Control Poem by Beth Rhodes

Bruises, cuts, and scrapes,
from these things i try to escape,
broken bones and walls with holes,
were inflicted by a person out of control,
running, hiding, collapsing in fear,
to the cold wood floor fell many silent tears,
for each tear that hit the floor,
a piece of my heart tore,
you...the one i used to love,
but nevermore,
those days are over,
my bones have healed,
you making me suffer,
has only made me tougher.