It's Always the Same

Is it really better to be yelled at?

For one to scream about nothing.

Sometimes I think I’m always in the wrong.

I’m just something to be attacked.

I walk around my house,

Afraid to say a word or two.

Because lord knows it may be the wrong word.

And I would hear about it for the rest of the day.

I can’t even speak,

I can’t even talk.

The only safe thing to do is to stay in my room,

My safe haven.

But even my actions speak louder than my words.

By not saying anything is wrong.

I feel as if it is a burden upon my shoulders.

Why do I need to live precariously around you?

But once it starts,

It never stops.

He will grit his teeth together so tight,

And clench his fists.

His face reaches a reddish color almost resembling a tomato.

His eyes look like death,

Its like yelling at me is his drug.

And he is an addict.

Even if I start to cry,

The yelling gets louder.

 My thoughts beat in my mind.

And I begin to suffer.

I would rather be beaten then treated like this.

It would be over quicker.

And less painful.

But either way, things are not better.

If I could have one wish,

It would be to start over

That way I would want to stay

And live here forever.