Happy  fifth anniversary

There he was  on his side of the marital bed
Naked, except for his briefs
And in his entire ugliness.
Dead to the world
Dead drunk, also the somnifères helping

How she now looked at him
Despising him
Holding the knife, poised and ready.

YEAR ONE
The  very handsome fellow, the compliments endless
Then the remarks on how she  looked at men?
Gee, she worked in a high end boutique of designer clothes for men
The knife came down, first cut on Sleeping Ugliness
A tiny bit if blood on the tip of the knife as it brushed his chest

YEAR TWO
Her hair, always a mess
Her clothes, she dressed like a whore
Though he'd never complained before
Loved the wild tignasse and her gently alluring décolleté
Holding the knife tightly, no hesitation, right in the chest
Blood spewing, no worry.

YEAR THREE
That slob did not work, could hardly stop her from doing so
Needed for her to feed him the cash
Started cutting her off from her family, friends
Except for work, a prisoner in her house
Another deep cut on the other side of the chest
Blood everywhere, she couldn't care

YEAR FOUR
Patience almost at an end.
Becoming a psychological mess.
And he dared blame her for not even getting pregnant
Nothing wrong with her plumbing
Would HE go to the doctor and get checked?
She asked him once and got severely hit in the ribs in return
Knife held tightly she hit him right in the heart

YEAR FIVE
Five years of progressively becoming a slave
In her own dwelling
So on the fifth day of the fifth  month of the fifth year of their union
She planted the fifth and final stroke in the heart of a man
Who really never had one.