Broken*

 on her knees on the kitchen floor
picking up the broken shards
of glass and ceramics
reminded her of the rice
on the church floor

her fingers cut and bleeding
blood sacrifice on her wedding ring
made her think of the vow
at the pristine altar of God
did she say 'I do'

ten years of bending
picking up after him
the house master, husband
slave driver and jailkeeper
did she die and went to hell

she left before he woke
riding the greyhound
invigorating chilly air
a hundred miles away
she felt the warm sun
on her shoulders.


*this poem was entered in a competition here. thank you for reading*