She's standing, and I smell
the fear she's emitting
it seeps from her every pore
and the baby is screaming
as he curses, his voice rising
like a volcano erupting
all it's dark ashes.

She rocks the baby
a pacifier for the tears falling
I hear a familiar lullaby
and I know she's afraid
and the lullaby is her way
of communicating her terror
as he curses again
                          again
                              again.

The singing is a bright red scream
and I catch the baby's eyes
a bottom lip turned over,
a head on a shoulder
the father shouts,
"You're my wife and I'm not leaving without you!"

Neither mother nor child
are safe, I know this
and I know this for all the reasons
I maybe shouldn't
but I know what fear smells of
I know the scent
I know the cues to surrender.

Mother and child
their eyes in misery
are screaming silently
to us all,
"Help us!"

© Sia Jane