Abuse is subtle
Nothing friends see
I'm blamed for his mistakes
He credits my work to himself.
Observes I'm “almost” thin enough
Implies small things lacking
If only I were smarter, prettier, quieter
He laughs when I fail
Photographs my clumsiness
Ignores my success
Mumbles under his breath
the whispered threat
“I’m getting angry.”
He pouts childlike when ignored
Hovers over me in arguments
He buries the kitchen table in papers
Resists clearing it even for parties.
Holds my arm tightly lest I leave
The Christmas tree he promises to take down
remains up until Easter.
His hatchet for cutting up chicken
for the dogs rests against the hoosier.
It gives me pause.
He harangues me while I book vacation.
I select the seats.
I'm in 13A
He’s in 32B.
4 thoughts on “32B”
Another great poem. Sad but true. I love the ending.
Thank you, Suze!
Great poem and it is like you wrote about my marriage except I was not brave enough to have him sit in seat 32B.
It did take me 7 years to throw him out.