He is different.

The difference with him
Is when he hits her
He always apologises
Even in just a murmer

Hes always so sorry
And he wishes he could control it
But his anger has always haunted him
He couldn’t control the fits

Of pure rage.
He was sorry she was hurt
But her actions always were
The reasons for his bursts

And maybe if she didn’t
Laugh so annoyingly over dinner
Or wear that short dress to work
Then it wouldn’t have been her

That was hit.
And she hugs him after
Apologises for the fight
Buys him ice-cream and hopes
It will all be alright

And he won’t leave her
With their baby
All alone in the world
They needed him right now
She didn’t want their little family to fold.
But she admits that
If it were not her
But her daughter, she would tell her
That these actions were

Not ones of love.
But of contempt and spite
And that black eyes hurt far more
Then the leaving fight

When she’d pack her bags
For the very last time
And he’d cry and promise
That this was that sign

He needed, to know to get help
And he would go
But not today
Or tomorrow, or for years, as it might show

To be the case. But he’s different.