i talk and then yell
he is catatonic
like a child
with a temper
he holds his breath
until his face is red

& when i threaten
or find something sharp
he reaches for the scissors
to copy my desperation
tiny white scratches
he proves he's as scared
as i am

but i have bled

i am the abusive husband
i am the nameless rage
he cowers under covers
i become my father
& he is catatonic
like a child with a temper

when i leave
i walk in circles
without a plan

because i don't think
three sleeping pills
will be enough to cut it

02/05/2005

Author's Note: have we broken up? you never know. ask me in an hour.

Posted on 02/05/2005
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