It Never Ends

Like a small pebble dropped into a pond, the ripples spread outward, in rings, forever. Long after the ripples are no longer visible to the person on shore, the beings that live there feel them. No one worries about the microscopic organisms that swirl, maimed & hurt. No person on the shore even thinks about them. But the consequences from those rings live on & on.

It doesn't matter if it's the first time, or the 20th time. For if you survive, it happens again, and again, and again. If not by him, then by your family, your friends, the courts & anyone who finds out about it.

It doesn't end in the kitchen. Or the bedroom. Or the backyard. It doesn't end when he returns to washing the dishes. Or returns to the TV set. Or to the fridge for a beer.

It didn't start with that incident. Or that first punch. Or the first stab. Why would it end there?

It doesn't end when your body has healed. Or if in court he's been found guilty of battery. Or when you live separately.

It doesn't end.