by Nora Page
I see her
Unapologetic, blood on her hands
Cradling the knife
Like it is her own child.
I see her
Shadow malformed, grotesque
Against the wall
In the darkened hallway.
I see her
Stumbling back
To gaze into the mirror
And see the monster she has become
I see her
Scrubbing at her hands
Convinced they still drip blood
They do; only now its hers
Palms scraped raw.
I see her
Cover his portrait in the hall
With a black silk sheet
So that it can’t leer at her
Can’t hurt her anymore.
I see her
Smile again, this time for real
Uncover her arms
To show faded bruises
That she no longer tries to hide.
I see her
Smile at his funeral
I see her
Only pretend to weep
In front of his mother
I see her burn his belongings
And finally his picture
I see her
Embrace the power she holds
Hidden for so long
Squashed and stunted
In the darkest corners.