The Woman

The Woman

 

Blue marks her lovely face

 

With blood red circles

 

And purple rings.

 

Her lip is cut,

 

Her face puffed up;

 

But her eyes are fierce

 

As she takes stock.

 

This time, this once

 

She’ll not break:

 

She’ll bend and hurt

 

But rise up straight.

 

She packs her bags

 

And looks around:

 

The chair is shattered;

 

The table upside down.

 

She puts her rings upon the bed.

 

The bed she’ll never share again:

 

With a sad little shake

 

Of her now proud head

 

She turns and walks;

 

Her life regained.

                                                                                                                                                         © jeanihess