Love masked and explained through fist, back bruised and battered from hits.
Belly blue and swollen from kicks, face slimed and lathered by spit.
All because she won’t believe that He is the man she married and the man she thought he was never existed.
She won’t admit that the love he promised is the same that leaves her face twisted.
The agony she experiences will last for better or till worse.
Though worse seems to be the only scene he constantly wants to rehearse.
No matter how she begs, pleads or even tries to coerce.
Her looks are no longer sufficient enough to stop the blows that he is determined to disperse.
So to escape she finds release when she’s feeling low from top, middle and bottom of several bottles of Merlot.
Once she reaches home her children know its time for her to let her “love” explode.
She releases all her frustrations and disappointments on the products of her abusive partner.
She has to take action before they are able to harm her, knowing that you reap what you sow just like the farmer.
She misinterprets it and thinks she knows that it means that beating your spouse is predisposed in your genes so she is determined to rip this pair at the seams.
So she gets to work on her schemes, taking ideas from the darkest part of her dreams, heads off toward the river with her kids for a swim or so it seems, they play giddy and happy in the river all the while amazed from how it gleams.
She grabs the kids by the throat, advances to depths safe only for boats, water rushing in to her mouth as she spoke, whispering a small I love you to voices that will no longer utter notes, her head filled with thoughts while she chocked, Dam…she realized to late that the one she should have killed is sitting at home watching TV and drinking coke.