Hope

She pulls her sleeves below her wrists
to hide the marks of angry fists,
and checks her face for signs of age,
puts makeup over signs of rage.
Her eyes are sad, her face is bright,
as she walks, smiling, to meet the night.
He meets her at the bottom stair,
the guests…his guests…already there.
An eyebrow raised, he takes her hand,
painfully, so she’ll understand.
His eyes meet hers with hate so real,
she shivers at the ice she feels.
She pastes a smile on, lady of the manor,
her expression proud as any banner.
The guests all see the beauty there,
holding hands upon the stair,
they cannot see the room inside,
where her dead heart must run and hide.
They cannot see the silent eyes,
the graveyard where her lost hope lies.

Masked

Silent bedroom, the great divide,
though they still sleep side-by-side,
though he still turns and holds her tight,
claiming her all through the night,
murmuring dreams into her ear,
while she lays paralyzed by fear.

Silent kitchen, spotless clean,
glittering with an icy sheen,
gleaming light on spotless floor,
sharpness hidden in a drawer,
she hears them waiting, rustling,
she knows too well their deadly sting.

Silent parlor, dust free, still,
ceramic birds voice soundless trill,
cushions rise in lonely splendor,
old carpet lies in soft surrender,
witnesses to many an hour
of pain washed clean by sorrows shower.

Silent hallway, sunlit door,
colored beams on patterned floor,
front door,  pathway to sunshine and life,
now hated gateway to anger and strife,
sound of door slamming brings sadness and fright,
his shadow looms large, erasing the light.

Silent woman, mask intact,
child inside by terror wracked,
head cast down to hide the eyes,
in hope that he won’t realize,
and seeing, take, and taking, kill,
so she remains, silent and still.