Untitled

Drunken and malicious
He stands in the doorway of a
dimly lit room; reeking of cheap
liquor, cigarettes...and piss.

Suddenly the sound of shattering
glass from a bottle that has
glided across the room without
noticeable movement.

He advances and intrudes her
personal space...screaming and
swearing about his righteousness
and her unfathomable sins.

She makes a mad dash for the outdoors...
crashing through bushes and weeping willows;
while he, in spite of his drunkeness and his
staggering, unsteady gait pursues...and captures
her.

He pounds and strikes until his knuckles split
and bleed and the plank he's whipping her with
breaks in his hand.

Her tears are like the rain to wound like memories.
She grips her throbbing head. The writhing struggle
to break free, the devastating blows...fear worse
than the blow that filthy and unkind words would
present. The face she loathed just as much as she
ever cherished...

He's done now...or is he? Done maybe, for the moment,
anyway...until of course, next time. And she sobs
within, but while sitting in her room, she stares
blankly into space.

Silence...and then she hears him stumble inside;
the stink of sweat, cheap liquor, cigarettes, blood...
and piss is heavily upon him.

Exhausted is he...and panting...purged and avenged for
the cruelty he himself once had to bear.