Societal Standards

“Don’t hit girls”

His mother told him

When he got in a fight on the playground

The first time

A slap to the cheek

The second time

A vase lay shattered, white and blue flowers laying on the floor

To the left of where he stood

The third time

A punch to the chest

The fourth time

Fingernail crescents stood imprinted

On the flesh of an arm,

Blemishing the perfect skin

The fifth, sixth, seventh, eight times

All blended together

“She’s half your height, she could never abuse you”

The police officer told him,

Rolling his eyes and blatantly ignoring his protests

Lulled in by the promises

And apologies

Of love and sorrow––

But the caring and happiness was marred by the screaming and scratching

Years pass

White veils and cold, sterilized hospital rooms came

And so did two little kids

The children, young and defenseless

Bore marks that their father never did

Bruises and cuts and scratches