Bleeding to Death

Bleeding to Death

Conscious of only this moment
I cringe as you lift your arm,
I flinch as you stir the air with force
and another blow of shame lands,
marking the passage of another drink.

Conscious of only this pain,
I cringe as my body falls yet again
I flinch as your anger explodes
to render me helpless, shamelessly weeping,
begging for that one morsel of mercy,
that you don't posess...

Conscious of your cackles of delight,
I cringe as I feel the hot fluids trickle down my side
I flinch as you look on, judging whether to give me more,
whether the triumph over me now is once more complete,
whether my punishment is now meted out
or not...

Conscious of the quiet aftermath,
I cringe as I hear you humming close by
I flinch as the sound of tortured menace grows close,
my blood thickening on more wounds than I can count,
scabs forming yet another layer of pityful existence.
Would that my life could seep away,
just quietly, more pronounced...

For nothing can be worse than just slowly bleeding to death
like this, yes without an audience, without my pride.
Next time when I cringe, please finish it ...
Please.