He

Who is that slamming down On the already red flesh It is He. I hear the cries from all angles… is it me? I dare not look because It is He. I see the fallen hairs, the fallen tears, and the blood Just fallen – Fallen on the cold hard-wood floors of this tiny apartment we call home I scatter about; I want to be invisible Who is that monster? I’m too scared to move, too cowardly to fight back So I stay limp because It is He. Can I breathe? Am I alive? Yes, I am I hear the click-clacking of shoes It is He. Walks away from me and finally it’s over Hours pass and my body aches, it hurts, it screams in pain No, no. I must get up now Slip on a turtle-neck, maybe a jacket, some long pants… But it’s only September Sunday’s best? Not today I smile and wave and say hello with a saint next to me It is He.