and like your father you beat your wife
until she ran away, leaving you her bruises
and broken bones in food storage containers
in the freezer along with a note on the door which read:
here is your dinner for the week, after that you’re on your own.
monday: one black eye and two chipped teeth
tuesday: a fat lip, swollen left cheek and lump on the back of the head for dessert
wednesday: two cracked ribs and a bruise a mile wide
thursday: another black eye, broken nose
friday: a piece of bitten off tongue, more teeth, a few handfuls of torn out hair
saturday: sunglasses (i won’t need them anymore), one inch scar from chin
sunday: this is supposed to be a day of rest. guess you’ll have to starve.