He slapped her hard, knocked the glasses right off Then dragged her away by her short black hair I’ve often wondered if she kept it clipped Kept it chopped and kept it so very snipped To appease and placate that jealous glare Destroyed her beauty so he’d feel secure In hopes he’d one-day just stop hurting her The kids knew better than to start crying As he yanked her screaming across the floor Thank God, some things were hidden from their sight Never to be clearly brought to the light What came with the screams behind that closed door What came with that pain made her feel impure And how she just hoped he’d stop hurting her No broken bones, it could be a lot worse At least this time, there’s not a fractured arm No doctors’ bill that she couldn’t afford Just one more stabbing from that so-called sword She could take the hit, could take all the harm She could clean off the blood, once more endure And long for when he’d just stop hurting her She opened the curtains; that’s it and all Hard to believe that it’s not more complex He thought it signaled some secret lover That she was flirting, one way or another Just a curtain, but he thought it meant sex A sunny day was the only allure She opened the cloth, he began hurting her Not everyone breaks, but everyone sleeps That sleeping man’s skull met a club of wood She wanted to make sure that he would know In slumber, she could force his scalp to flow Again, and again, each blow felt so good She knew it was just a brief, happy cure Slowing him down from again hurting her Every man out there lays hands on his wife That’s what she was told; the life she was taught Once I said to her when I was a child My eyes defiant; my spirit still wild If mine puts hands on me, I’ll make him rot She stared, resigned, looking sad and unsure Recalling the one that had once hurt her Every man out there lays hands on his wife Well, that’s not true; it’s an outdated thought I recall when mine slapped me; when mine bruised I recall when I bled when he abused My grandmother’s words weren’t the wisdom I sought I know I believed that I’d fight myself free And he’d rue and regret when he hurt me And still I do fight this war to go free But he will still regret the day he hurt me