guilty

she pays for the
_{(unheard cries and the)}
presents, the pain which
she ignored
when it was happening
_{(not to me... not to me... not to me...)}

she pays for the
long nights toying with
what-ifs, how-comes and all the
expensive perfume (which
can never seem to cover the clanging
stench of blood)

she never bothered with
whys

she pays for
the childrens school
_{(the doctors bills)}

she pays for the childrens silence;
which
is usually more than she
can really afford
_{(remembering
the nosy questions she
deflected by cash-in-hand)}

she recieves
rueful smiles

not of apology
(he's too big for that)

but of pity
('she can't get out, poor soul
not with the kids')

because he'll just
come back
just do it all again

because
she's a target

& he likes the pain
the thrill;
the crunch
of her bones

the crash of
her will-power
&
the whisper of
her pleading