He Loves Me

As I stare aimlessly in to this breathtaking piece of art by some unknown artist, I feel compelled to understand it. I feel the piece speaking to me almost screaming for me. I hear the silent whimpers of a shattered woman’s soul. She cries silently hoping that no one will hear her, but I hear her. I can feel her pain and I can relate to her story. I feel that I must tell her story. I see that the darkness represents the words of the one she loves most. The words he throws upon her are like whips. With every lash leaving her more and more wounded, than the last.





        All she wanted to do was to please him. All she wanted to do was make him happy. Her life was to be his everything, but he is not as receptive as she is. Inside she feels she is nothing, for he was her everything to her. She feels that she has no purpose, because he makes her feel as if that is what she is supposed to do. He speaks to as if she is no one. Words of accusations, persecutions and hate, but she is always by his side like a guide dog to his disabled owner. Inside she is dying because of him, but she still cannot walk away.





      I stare into this shattered woman’s soul and I can see that emotionally she is deprived, physically she is weak, mentally she is on the brink of a nervous breakdown, and spiritually she is going through hell because he has run her through hell and back. Yet this does not matter to her because she feels that he will change. She feels that when he ready to act civilly, he will be the ultimate man that she needs. That man she desires so much. The man she needs to protect her and shelter her from the thing she does not wish to encounter.





    All that she wants is to lay next to him. She wants their bodies to intertwine, but not in a sexual way. She wants to feel and hear the natural rhythms of his body. To bask in his glory is all she feels she needs to go on. Inside she feels ugly, worthless...