she barely drank the poison, barely tasted it at all.
she walked home a little dizzy, suprised she didnt fall.
she snuck through her window, afraid to just walk in the door.
She slipped in to an old habit, but worse than before.
She woke up the next morning, hungover as could be.
She looked in the mirror, disgusted by what she did see.
she looked at her bruises, all over her skin.
she hurt so bad, and he swore he wouldnt hit her again.
she went to see him later, and she flinched at his touch.
she knew she loved him, but why did he hurt her so much?
she wore a jacket in the summer, claiming she was "cold".
She wanted to tell, but feared what would happen if she told.
she dealt with it so long, just over a year.
she couldnt take it anymore, living a life of fear.
she waited for him in the house, with a gun in hand.
she shot him twice, cause there was only so much the poor girl could stand.
She called the cops, with the simple words "hes dead".
she didnt shed a tear, even after the words where said.
she sat on the couch as the cops came, and put on each cuff.
she didnt regret a thing, because she had finally had enough.