Love is Not Black and Blue
Mother was tall, brunette, and sometimes black and blue.
I often woke up to a violent fight in the other room.
These facts shaped the way I saw myself, marriage, family, and how life worked.
After my father moved out, life was essentially the same as it had been with him,
except for one difference -- I no longer feared my home.
I didn't worry Daddy would kill Mother.
I didn't run in mud and thunderstorm from gunshots in the night.
In my bed, I heard train whistles and the tv in the living room.
I would wake up to breakfast.
You deserve peace.