The last supper

Muffled shouts and upstairs bumps,
heavy hands hit bruising thumps,
body dragged by clumps of hair,
whimpers spit from bloodied lips,
her beating close to breaking,
control now gone he carries on,
expression slips unconscious.

Two fish fingers and smiley faces,
run to find their hiding places,
don't worry, we always get by,
look at me, boys don't cry.

The eldest son a gentle one,
runs to save a rag doll mum.
Achilles steps, flight unchecked,
stabs a bread knife in his neck.

Splash patterns streak the wall,
emergency services won't be called,
laddered tights, she staggers to stand,
held up straight by smaller hands,
Oh dear god, just leave him with me;

you two please, go finish your tea.