As I walk towards that house, I feel the heat, I feel his heartache.

My heart is beating, my mind is racing. I don’t know if I should go in or should I wait.

As I look down at my kids’ smiles, I feel hope and I choose to face my fate.

This is my story, I don’t think all of you will feel it, but I hope a few will relate.

As I walk in, I see the bottles, I see his face, and I feel like he wants to inflict some pain.

I hope this is not like the last time, as he apologised and promised he would never do it again.

I don’t know if I’m imagining things but I can see the anger in his breath, I can see it running in his veins.

As he walks towards me with his hand up, I don’t know if it’s a hand of love or a hand of pain.