The Light Under the Door

The fading spots of blood and the piss stains mock me like they are saying, We told you so, told you, youd be back. They are right. Once more, I find myself lying at the bottom of the basement stairsmy husbands favorite punishment. This is old business. I cant even cry. These stains were left by me, the last time I occupied this space, reminding me this is probably not the last. If something happens to me, at least the blood and the piss have marked my passage, marked my existence that, onc...