The Fist

Last winter it was i clearly remember ending of August beginning September The kids were in bed when I heard you come in the stench of alcohol the clanging of tins You came up the stairs trying to find me the dirt from your boots covering the carpet I tried to hide in the closet holding my breath the thud of your step shaking the doors The doors rattled becoming unhinged the creak of the wood making me nervous We both know whats about to happen the raise of your fist hitting my face