Replay

Insults that sting
Like a slap to the face
Your aim may be true
Yet I cower
Salty tears, accusatory
Sharp words
I’m in the middle
Yet helplessly watching
Like a child that is blaming herself
Waiting for you to stop
Lashing out at it
Sometimes you turn
Noticing that I’m sitting
Back against the wall, and my
Hands curled to fists
I keep longing for comfort
And love, though
The story your eyes tell is different
And you avert them
Turning your back
As the war starts anew