Maria held herself,
The handcuffs on her arms,
But she still looked like an angel
In the back of the police car.
Her face bore the bruises,
Some of the damage done
On the Saturday afternoons
When the monster had never won;
Once he lost his money,
He spent his rage on her,
A perfect smile, tainted with blood,
A tender heart, laden with scars.
On the night the light came
Back to Maria’s eyes,
She once again felt fire in them,
In place of bloodied tears she’d cried;
She broke herself from the
Curse that had held her tight,
Spilling his blood upon the floor,
Saved her life on that July night.
If I’d known of her curse,
I’d have killed him myself,
I’d put the smile back on her face,
And take her place in that cold cell;
Yet I know my place here,
With work that must be done:
Keep her house, feed her dog, and be
The one to tell her orphaned son.