The Lowest Point

I wake up with a tear streamed face,
To find my clothes strewn about every place.
I try to be strong for my mind’s sake.
However, I don’t know how much more pain I can take.
I feel as though you ripped out my heart with your bare hands.
As though you never meant our vows taken as woman and man.

I struggle to the mirror and take a long hard stare.
My eyes are blood-shot and I have tousled hair.
I pick up this razor and hold it to my wrist.
I want to end this existence with one sharp twist.
Just then the phone rings and awakens me.
It is you my dear saying you still love me.
I realized what I have allowed you to do to me.
I am at my lowest point and I can no longer fall.

I have been waiting weeks and months for this very call.
Now you are saying the things I have always wanted to hear.
But it took my pain and attempted suicide to get here.
What have I allowed you to do to me?
I have given you too much credit and power over me.
How the hell did I get here?

I hang up the phone and prepare for your visit.
Upon your arrival I will let you know
That it is time to go.

I can no longer subject myself to your abuse.
Because in the end I always lose.
So as I open the door and you smile back at me.
I tell you not approach or even touch me.
Don’t cross the doorway for that is my line in the sand.
I have realized you do not deserve to be my husband.
So take your I’m sorry and all your lies and walk out that door.
You have taken me to my lowest point and
I am now rising from the floor.