the arrival of justice

see note for reviewers.

she cowers in the corner

when he comes home the

mere clomp of the boots

make their way to the room

wherein she is hiding her

breathing rapidly increasing

her heart thumping louder

than his footsteps growing

closer while she tries to

work out her next move she

is pulled out from under

the bed by her ankles what

happens next you imagine

in your worst terror if you

can picture a glass bottle

being forcefully thrown

point-blank at a plane of

brand-new asphalt smashing

splintering all over the place

cutting slicing hurting

maiming everything in its

path the shards never to be

removed but instead to inflame

infect to etch permanent

physical scars in her skin to

mirror to echo the emotional

the mental scars vibrating

maddening throughout her

body the cycle continues

day after day week after

week year after year the

whole while making any

possible memory of what

he was before it all began

when she swore herself to

him when they smiled

together when the proverbial

demons were nowhere to

be seen yet now they are

all that she sees without a

free moment to breathe

anything but fear sadness

blood still caked on the side

of her cheek she slides

quicker quicker quicker

into the red the darker the

color as the pain explodes

in her brain as each day’s

torment torture brings

what she never thought

possible a new surprise of

momentously malicious

proportions until she breaks

like the glass he broke a

hundred thousand times

she closes her eyes grips

whatever is heavy blunt

sharp killing device with

both hands comes crashing

down hard swift powerful

with every bit of strength

that she has inside her that

she has kept pent up inside

the whole while she has been

beaten beaten beaten for

years now always covering

up her wounds sharing not

a second of her story to

anyone always lying to her

best friends her family now

all ending all wrapping up

the story when his head

smashed like glass spattered

gushing flowing a maroon

pool all over the floor she

drops the instrument of her

freedom from him her freedom

from all the pain she lifts her

head she does not cry a

tear for all her tears have been

cried out she leaves the room

in silence a silence so sweet

it sings a million new melodies

which illustrate the possibility of

a new beginning. 

Author's Note

“In the beginning, women believe in and call upon diverse social systems—police, family, medical and mental health professionals, schools, clergy, family courts— systems that would fail them and their children. Their collective voice describes a series of events and interactions that produces in each woman a firm belief that the unavoidable conclusion to the violent relationship is death—hers, his, or the death of both partners. What can be done to reduce the likelihood that other women will experience the same pattern of abuse and the same pathway to prison?”

-“Convicted Survivors: The Imprisonment of Battered Women Who Kill” by
Elizabeth Ann Dermody Leonard

http://www.freebatteredwomen.org