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.