How Do I Hate Him? (sonnet)

(yes this is after the style of Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnet)

How do I hate him? Let me count the ways.
I hate him for making me change my plans.
I hate him for all his rude demands.
I hate him for ruining the best of days.
By day the mem'ries, the nightmares at dark
Flow through my being like river to sea.
I hate him for putting this fear in me.
I hate him for breaking my only heart.
I hate him, truly, as time goes on by,
I can find no reason to forgive him.
He tortured me at his every whim,
Without needing a single reason why.
I hate him for making my future grim.
I hate him for making my spirit cry.

Survivors with a Voice (sonnet)

He took my body from me as he liked.
He made my very life a living hell.
Now, it seems, I have to stand up and fight
So I don't lose my mind to him as well.
Though I feel the gears slipping a little,
I'm holding on with all that I have left.
Though my soul's scarred and my brain is brittle,
I will fight this to my very last breath.
I'll be damned if I'm going to give up now,
After all the hell he has put me through.
I'll stay together, though I don't know how.
I won't give up. I've got too much to do.
Take the mem'ries and flashbacks and shove them.
Survivors with a voice, gotta love them!

Empty Advice (sonnet)

"Just think of your priorities," you say.
"Just mother all your children; you know how.
You've come too far to throw it all away.
The worst is past, and you'll find your way now."
What do you even know about my hell?
Were you there when he screwed me like a dog?
Have you ever been too frightened to tell?
Have you lived fifteen years in a dense fog?
"Just focus on your future," so you say.
"Forget the old ways of doing things now.
You have a bright mind, so you'll find a way,
You left because he hurt you anyhow."
Your words, they felt as cold as winter ice.
Thanks, but no thanks, for your empty advice.

Back on My Feet (sonnet)

BAM! Up against the wall, you slammed my head.
I often prayed that they were just bad dreams.
You just walked away as though I were dead,
Leaving my soul ripped apart at the seams.
You thought you always had the upper hand,
That I would obey you, no matter what.
But there's one thing you didn't understand --
I'm a fighter, and I never give up!
Each time you took something away from me,
I found a way to simply make it through,
And dreamed of the day I'd fin'lly be free.
I never did believe your words were true.
Success is a revenge, so very sweet.
You knocked me down, but I'm back on my feet.

Who's Your Bitch NOW? (sonnet)

You took my soul from me a million times.
You said I'd be a fool to try to leave.
After years of you messing with my mind,
There was some of it I almost believed.
You called me a slut and a worthless whore,
A cunt, a bitch, and a few that were worse.
You raped me til I couldn't take much more,
And then would laugh in my face and just curse.
You said I was stupid, ugly, and fat.
You gave me no mercy when I cried out.
I learned to be silent through all of that,
For if I complained, it was worse, no doubt.
And yet I did survive . . . someway, somehow --
One thing I have to ask, "Who's your bitch NOW?"

Almost Gone (sonnet)

Just today, in front of the kitchen sink,
I stood for what seemed like over an hour.
"What is the problem?" I surely did think,
Why am I still giving this man power?
I remembered all the times he hurt me --
He said me washing dishes turned him on.
I cringed when I thought of the agony,
But then I remembered -- the bastard's GONE!
He cannot hurt me like that any more.
He can't trap me alone in my kitchen.
Somehow, I'm not as afraid as before,
Because someone took the time to listen.
I'll wash these plates and then just carry on,
For the hold he had on me's almost gone.

Candy Land (sonnet)

So we're back to the game of Candy Land,
We're not stuck in the Lollipop Forest
Like we had been for weeks and weeks on end,
But in the Molasses Swamp now we "rest."
I don't know how many "turns" we'll spend here,
Perhaps we'll have to go back to the start.
I don't know how I'll dry up all my tears,
Or explain to my children's broken hearts.
How is it that this injustice can be?
How am I to deal with this load of pain?
Just when I thought life was setting us free,
My hopes were squashed completely flat again.
I don't know how much more pain I can take
Before I stop bending and fin'lly break.

I'd Rather Be Dead (sonnet)

Take your flowers from the grocery store
And shove them where the sun will never shine.
I won't let you torment me anymore.
I have a new life that's totally mine.
Your attempts to control me are a waste.
Your accusation's nothing but a lie.
You're nothing to me but a bitter taste
Left in my mouth from days long since gone by.
I am determined to be free of you,
Your lies, and all of your insanity.
I wish you'd understand that we are THROUGH
And give up on playing mind games with me.
"We had our moments," that's true what you said.
But go back to you? I'd rather be dead.

Go Fly a *#@+ Kite (Sonnet; language warning)

(I'm really sorry about the language, but I was extra "pissed off"
when I wrote this sonnet.  Normally I hate the 'F' word
(mostly because it was HIS favorite word), but sometimes
it's the only thing that seems to fit.)

To you, I say, "Go fly a fucking kite!
Go jump off of the highest cliff you know.
I will not let you torment me tonight
Or change my plans because you tell me so.
It's none of your damn bus'ness what I do,
Or where I go, or who I choose to see.
I don't need your permission, so fuck you.
It's time you fucking stopped controlling me.
So throw your fit, if that's what you must do.
Go find another mat to trounce upon.
Your days of putting me through hell are through,
I'm sick of your abuse, and I've moved on.
I do not give a God damn flying fuck
About you now, so you're shit out of luck."