Her gaze lingers at the
hands intertwined with her own,
His knuckles bruised
black and blue to the bone,
Tears begin to roll at the moment
he starts to scold,
Fragile and weakened
another fist as she feels the blow,
She scurries to the bathroom
cover up the blood and scars
"no one must know,"
The pain she's so afraid to show,
Underneath her breath she whispers, "It's okay, don't cry, this is nothing I can't condone,"

Her gaze follows
his shadow the second he retreats,
"Weren't we happy,
that moment between the sheets?"
She'll keep this a secret
just as she goes on her knees,
Clutching to the hem
of his bloodied sleeves,
"Honey, let's go back to sleep,"
But the pain in her eyes
he doesn't feel,
This is the part where she'll begin
to beg and plead,
"I'm sorry, please don't leave,"

Her gaze traces the edges of his lips trying to find serenity in this poisonous kiss,
Tranquility in his deadly touch
is not exactly what she miss,
Realizing the love... it no longer exists,
He says, "I won't do it again, I promise,"
Later that night he threatens her life
if she decides to leave,
With no choice given
in this hour of need,
In silence, she whimpers
and to his demands she accedes,

Her gaze falters
as he holds her body captive,
Thinking without him, she can't live,
But to society he's not a convict,
It's not his fault, she provoked him,
She's a volunteering victim,
ignorance echoing, "I know him,"

Her gaze becomes dull,
her image so distorted,
Of course she's undone,
Who is this person he has become?
He shoves her into the wall,
"from me you cannot run,"
When the city sleeps, his vile words spoken so loud and her face throbbing,
She manages to mutter,
"I can't breathe, I'm choking,"
But he doesn't let go, screaming: "this wouldn't happen if you'd just listen to me!"

Her gaze starts to fade,
She's a wife, a mother, a daughter,
But what makes him think
that he owns her?
She's wondering
what goes through his mind,
Each moment
he reaps joy by the sound of her cry,
Her will is so broken,
she has no more strength to try,
Is it up to him
whether she lives or dies?
Thousands of women
strives alone in this fight,
The hope for redemption
isn't so optimistic,
And tomorrow they will see as she's marked as a another statistic.