When Will This Torture End?

He came home with a beer in hand,
liquor taining his breath,
I ran once I smelled him,
that smell, to me, means death.

I tried to hide in the bathroom,
but he found me rather fast.
I cringed as I felt the first blow,
wondering how long this could last.

The beating didn't last long,
he passed out eventually.
I crawled far away from him,
knowing I had to leave.

One day when he was somber,
I told him I couldn't stay.
He cried when I told him,
he said, "There's anyother way."

He wouldn't let me pass the doorway,
he held my hand tenderly.
He kissed it oh so gently,
and got down on one knee.

"Baby I love you, please don't leave me,"
he cried and kissed my face.
"And I still want to be married,
once I find a bigger place."

I cried cause I still loved him,
and I wanted to be his wife.
But what would his beatings be like,
if I was stuck with him for life?

I wanted to tell him 'sorry,
I'm sick of all the pain.
Our love used to be something,
now you treat it like a game.'

I really wanted to leave him,
but he'd come with knife and gun.
He would always find me,
no matter where I'd run.

He smiled as he knew he'd won,
he slowly kissed my cheek.
I knew I would always be scarred,
for I was far too weak.

He then went out the door again,
to go drink with his friends.
He would be back to hurt me,
when will this torture end?