Today

and yesterday

and the day before

I buried

that son of a bitch

for the third time

but he wouldn’t

stay buried

he kept rising

to the surface

little droplets

of sanguine reminders

seeping out

and torturing

my soul.

But this time,

would be

the last time,

as I tied

cement blocks

to ropes

and pitched

him overboard.

As I watched

the rope unwind

taking him with it

I became entangled

in the knots

becoming bound

with him

in salty brine

for eternity.

The sting on her face, the bruises on her knees, the tears in her eyes, the rage in her heart.

"Never again!!" she shouts to an empty room.

The flowers, the hand to lift her off the floor, the tears in his eyes, the apology and promise that, "it'll never happen again".

The vicious cycle begins, once again.

This time a black eye, glass shards in her hands, a lump forming on the back of the head, and heart screaming to be heard--to be set free.

The lies are told to neighbors, friends, family and onlookers. "No, I just broke a dish"; "I just hit my head"; "I just fell down the stairs"; "I can be so clumsy."

But how do you lie to a 3 year-old? A little one standing at the door, clutching his teddy bear to his chest while listening to mommy's screams, daddy's shouts, and watching his daddy turn into the monsters, like on tv?

What kind of lie can hide the truth? No more lies!

Suitcases packed, secret bank account emptied, plane tickets bought with cash, new adventure on the horizon. Little boy hand in mama's bruised one. Big brown eyes searching deep grey ones. No questions asked, just ready for Never Again!