Please stop.
The words slip out of her mouth in a whisper.
Please don’t.
But he doesn’t care,
keeps talking,
and keeps yelling.
He doesn’t care what she has to say.
He’s right, she’s wrong.
He can speak, she can’t.
She allows one tear to slither down her check.
He insults her,
she’s called a baby.
She bites her tongue,
and squeezes her fists,
praying that she can get through another night.
Please stop.
She says the words a little loader now.
Please don’t.
She speaks the words firmly.
He gets up angrily.
Please stop.
She’s yelling now.
He raises a lamp.
She’s crashing to the ground.
Please don’t,
she whispers for one last time.
