Lisa Zaran

Nothing Abiding

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.