People said his bark was worse than his bite. But that wasn't true.
She hated to be barked at. It made her stomach hurt and her head feel woozy, both things making it hard to think straight. But the bite of his anger was worse. A lot worse.
Harsh words cut knife sharp into her, but angry punches caused bruising that reached down to her soul. Each time he started in on her, she imagined lying in a coffin of his construction. With each blow he hurled her way, he nailed the lid down, tighter and tighter until she had to suck air in great gasps.
In the beginning, his hands had been what attracted her to him. He worked hard. He worked with his hands and everything he constructed was true and straight and strong. When she fell in love with him, she'd put her hand in the palm of his hand and thought she could depend on him to take care of her forever.
Instead, he was destroying her. Word by word. Hit by hit.
She had to do this. She had to do this for herself. She had to do this before she was lost to herself forever. Crying softly, she picked it up and cradled it in her hands for a minute, then she put the phone to her ear and began to dial for help.
It was time to take her life into her own hands.
Hands caress or hit
Sooth or terrorize
Warm or chill with a gesture
Palm up signals no harm,
Balled into a fist the opposite.
Hands should create
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