A Child Called 'It'

He feels her eyes
Glower at him
He continues to scrub
His prospects are grim

She’s holding a glass
Of what he’s not sure
What he knows is that
It transforms her.

He trembles inside
But does not let his fear show
This is what she wants
For his terror to grow.

He finishes the dishes
Then turns around
Picks up a mop
To make a picture perfect ground.

The glass clinks
As she sets it on the counter
Her heels click
As she saunters

Over to where he is
He looks at his feet
She slaps him till he falls
And the back of his head meets

The edge of the kitchen table
He feels that familiar
Bold, wet sensation
As he holds back the tears

‘You’re no one!’ she screams
She continues to kick
Him while he’s down
‘You’re disgusting! You’re sick!’

Her yells grow louder
He tries to crawl away
But she puls him closer
He cannot keep her at bay

SO he’s dragged along
Until they’re in the kitchen again
He’s forced to the stove
His courage begins to drain

She turns the gas on
And wrenches his arm
He fights back
To keep himself from harm

Yet his strength is worthless
Against his mother’s fury
His arm consumed with pain
His eyesight goes blurry

She let’s go of him
Satisfied at last
She knocks him down
As she walks past

Crumpled on the floor
Defeated within
He tries to control
His quivering chin
However many times
She may beat him
He will keep going
He won’t let her win.