Her hands
Were as soft
As a rose
And his smile
Was as beautiful
As the sky
Her eyes
Could tell stories
But his fists
Could end them
His fists
Were like pins
And her arms
Were the bulletin
His punching bag
Whenever he felt
In the mood
The decision
Was worse
Than the pain
He inflicted upon her
After all
She still loved him
But still
When she left
She ran
Like the wind
It hurt him
Almost as bad
As he had hurt her
But she was gone
And free
As a bird
