The purple velvet of night
licks at the edges of a yard.
Patio chairs lay, knocked about,
a silent monument to fear.
Through gaping holes in the house
emotions slither out.
Fingers , stretching and reaching
Neighbors close windows and shutters
to protect their facades.

Acidic accusations pour from his mouth.
It buries in her veins and laps at her soul
Scorching and burning
this acid, as it scalds, demands answers.
But she has none.

No answers to give to this lion of a man
as he rips and tears away at her heart.

A mouse, shaking and afraid,
she merely waits
for a fate she knows is coming

Full, heavy air
climbs in through open windows and doors.
Suffocating the low sobs.
Slowly, so slowly, across the house
it inches.
Its milky white calm spreading
like the sheet of white over a corpse.

A room, lit only by the dewy blue of a television
he lies in wait.
A lion full after the meal of her soul.
liquid courage induced stupor
He is no longer a lion.





Cold black and white tile rise up to meet her.
A chair, thrown and broken
serves as her audience.
Frozen strawberries pressed to an ice blue cheek.
No witnesses but bottles and chairs
as a crystal tear runs downward.

At last, a hand meets a counter.
She’s up.
A table, a grainy chair
She’s moving
Strawberries trail behind her
fallen and left behind, melted and alive again,
a vibrant red splashing across the tile.

A door handle, brassy and cool to her touch
finds a ideal fit in her palm
as if it were waiting for her to reach out all these years.
This is it.

A car door, turn the key.
She’s out.

The acid drains and pools on the floor.
Her veins are now open and free pulsing with her heart,
newly aware of the rhythm of the world.
She is no longer a mouse.

Swollen purple crescents part,
revealing a smile that she thought dead
No longer will acid be her drink
and frost be her lover.