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Retribution for the Brute

Cloe Tom

She fed the ripped window shades
Under the sewing machine, to patch up
The rage that roared through the house.
Glasses shattered, frames broken,
He was the one to tear everything apart.
The aggressive shaking increased by day,
And never settled by night.
She fed the once lovable man
With a silver spoon, for he felt he was noble,
Deserving every mouthful of baked goodness.
He was the one to criticize her cooking skills,
Spitting out the peas in the split-pea soup,
Claiming they weren’t split enough.
She fed the clothesline with the oil
Stained blankets that he attempted
To set on fire, to illustrate that he
Did not want children.
The violent slaps increased by day
And never settled at night.
He was the one to grab her wrists
And order her to do all the chores.
She fed the barn animals
Their stale food and swept

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