August 2, 2003

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  She recognized
  The slight twist
  Of his head,
  The deepening crease
  Of his brow,
  The burning fire
  In his eyes.
  Always
  A sickening premonition
  Of the terror
  Quickly rising
  Into his
  Tightly balled fists.
  She falls quickly
  To the floor,
  Covering her head
  With her arms -
  It's the only
  Instinct she knows.
  Not fast enough
  Or strong enough
  To win.
  So she lies
  In the floor
  Waiting . . .
  Praying
  Desperately
  That the kids
  Are out of
  Hearing distance.
  Praying
  That she's
  Still conscious,
  Or even able
  To walk away.
  Praying
  That next time
  His lies
  Will be true.

  Warm blood
  Pours over
  Her eyes.
  The darkness
  Coming over
  Slowly pulls her,
  Finally,
  Into it's depths,
  As her screams
  For help
  Are unheard
  By the world.

  • 4:13 pm
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