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Poem

I always know when it’s last call
That’s when he stumbles home
He’s armed and he’s dangerous
With nowhere to go
But even in his drunken sweat
He knows his next target -
He shuts the windows,
And pulls the drapes closed

Then he’s yelling through the house
I don’t know what it’s about
I’m behind the closet door
Crouched down on the floor
All I can hear is the sound 
Of my heart beating
I don’t even realize I’m screaming
As he drags me out by my feet…

We have barbeques outside
And then he’s Mr. Nice Guy
He has all the neighbors fooled
With his helpful attitude
They never see 
The monster inside -
He pulls the drapes closed,
And that monster comes alive

He screams and he shouts
Rampaging through the house
All because of a joke
Our kitchen wall has a hole
I run behind the bed
Scrambling to get under it instead
But he yanks me out by the head…

I wake up later on the floor
Wondering who I am anymore
I feel like a pathetic version of me
No longer brave, no longer free
I dream of leaving him every night
But when I’ve left, I’ve paid the price
I don’t know how much more 
I can take - 
Maybe if I provoke him, 
He’ll end this charade…
I stare at paisley drapes
Tan and red swirl in my face

I look up at the walls
If the walls could speak
What would they say?
Would they be my Witness’s,
Or would they turn and run away?
Succumbing to Intimidation?
Fearing Retaliation?
Would there ever be 
Any Validation?
Any Compassion?
Or just more of this 
Inaction?

One time I hid behind the drapes
But he found me anyway

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