The Dutiful Wives Club… a poem

The Dutiful Wives Club
Beaten, bruised
inside and out.
Her eyes on the ground & stay there.
Soft sad voice mumbling answers
No, I fell. Really.
And
I’m clumsy by nature.
Hands clench, eyes tear.The physical pain
can be cured
with pills and potions,
patting and presents.

Inside
her heart is raw with letting it happen.
Inside
her brain is worming with hate and love and fear.
Inside
her soul is dying.