...23...

23
She asked for death because it has to feel better than this
Yet she still curled into her arms, protecting her chest from a fight that she could never win
Black and blue was her name
Eyes against palms
Bloodied mouth against breath
Chest caved and lungs collapsed
She never knew pain before this
23 times she wanted to fight back
Fight for what she understood
That no man had a right to make her feel less than self
Less than right when his actions were wrong
But she couldn't bat an eye as malice rested on his tongue
Didn't cry a tear as he proclaimed her less than nothing
Didn’t beg him to stop hitting her because that would be injustice
Didn't wonder when he stopped loving her
Didn't complain about the knee in her side, fingers weaved in her hair
Didn't yell as he broke tables and asymmetric frames that once held wedding photos and first communions
She just prayed
Barred hands to knees
Knees to hurt
Head to back of shoulder spread like eagles
And she prayed till his barrage of inconsistent lies halted and all she heard were tears leak like words on paper
She didn’t fight back because her children sat idle
Too scared to move, to bewildered to cry
Too young to understand his reason why
And though he doesnt say it, daddy loves mommy he just hates her complaining
Her dignity was all but faded as it became 23 times to the date and
His words became stipulated reasons for hitting her
See, see, see this is for his father who kicked his mother in womb and chest
Ribs bruised beyond recognition, hit her so hard his hand was impressed
"No you can't leave me"
Kicked her in side and stomach till he thought all life had left
And eventhough he survived, his mother was laid to rest
So he fought her for his life lost in transition
Commiserated his confidence in the shadows of her subconscious
Her fear was his purpose
Chose her to be a spectacle
Diluted her sexuality
He was her monster in the closet
The boogey man unseen
And something in between
But most of all he was her husband
Or whatever that means