The sound of him screaming is like wild horses crashing.

The feel of his beating is like thunder entering.

To scared to say a word, almost like a weary child dancing.

She hides her face, afraid to let her guard down.

throwing her self on the ground. He kicks her in the side.

She knows he’s loving this.

She fights to get to her feet, he says he’s gonna leave.

She pleads for him to stay, but she knows he needs to go away.

She loves him but she knows the pain is to much.

He could have killed her, maybe it was just luck.

She wipes the blood from her face.

Spits the remaining blood from her mouth.

Doesn’t take a moment to look in the mirror, just lays her tired head down.

She’s still as can be as he climbs in bed next to her.

He falls asleep so easily.

She’s sick of being beat-in! Its never gonna be alright!

She pulls the pistol out again on this full moon night.

Should she end it? No more pain. No more suffering.

No more blood running down her cheek.

No more words to speak.

She goes to pull the trigger, as its rammed into her head.

But the baby wakes, she lulls her back to sleep.

She won’t let herself cause so much misery.

She will not let herself brake.

She picks the gun back up. Turns to him.

Now he’s dead. His blood everywhere.

No more screaming like wild horses crashing.

No more feel of the beating.

No longer to scared to say a word.

No more weary children dancing.