One day you will look for me,
and I will be nowhere to be found.
You will wish you could kick
my pregnant stomach again,
the same way you did when
I was carrying our first-born.

One day you will look for me,
but I will no longer be around.
You’ll look for me in places
where you know I couldn’t possibly be,
Under the bed, behind the bathroom door.

One day you will look for me
and I will no longer be there.
You’ll wish you could come home to shout
and push me around simply
because your plate of food
is not waiting for you on the table,
but I’ll be in a happier place.

You will wish you could brag to your
friends once more about how your wife
“never steps out of line because
she knows if she does, she’ll get what’s coming to her.”
You’ll wish you could do all these things,
but I’ll no longer be there.

One day you will sit in an empty house…
You will wish I was there to take all the abuse…
To hear me scream once more,
but I will no longer be around.

One day I will no longer be part of this world,
and our neighbours will no longer have to try so hard
to pretend not to hear my cries for help.
on that day I will know that I am finally free.