Storyteller

I've been hiding these bruises from the press and paparazzi for years. Surprisingly, they still have no clue about the drunken raids that take place behind our closed doors. All the nights I've cried, curled up in a corner while he passes out peacefully in bed... All the nights I've struggled to breathe because of him throwing me down like a rag doll... All the nights I've had to keep quiet for the sake of our kids' sanity and our public appearance. But now all that work is for nothing... All the work is dismissed in one foul swoop when he slaps me on stage, in front of twenty thousand adoring fans.

I told myself I wouldn't let it go this far...