Consistency he said

Consistency is what makes our ways right

It makes the night seem so trite

Overall I’m alone and beyond-ignorant

 

I look to him and see my daughter

Standing with her doll in her hands

Tear glands shooting land-ing

Is this true? Can you?

 

He grabs my face and all I see

Is grey

 

Grey like the sky

Like his knuckles into my eye

I ask the Heavens why

Could this man hurt me?

I would die

For him

 

His snarling nostrils inflate

His veins debate

Explosion

Concentrate I say.

Concentrate.

 

I can get out of h-

 

Then black.

Black

 

The distant tiny footsteps approach.

I’m already gone..