But he still slammed the door. -From ‘See No Stranger’

Also this: Crooked Braid
From: The Vagina Monologues, by Even Ensler

He wanted to go out. He said to me-“You stay home” I said “I wanted to go out” He said “You have a baby” I said “It’s our baby” I laid the baby down. He probably felt my tension cause he was whimpering,the baby. I looked up and he slapped me, my husband. Not a blast that knocks your eyes blue. That came later it was a smack a hard domestic smack. He looked at me. He was smiling. I couldn’t believe it. He was smiling. He slapped me again. His dad was vicious to his mother. I saw him smile. What was that? He was the nicest person. He had long black hair, combing his long hair when we made love it got loose before.

He took me to the dinner, made me go out with his boss. I didn’t want to go. He kicked me under the table, told me to look happy, told me to smile. I smiled. He kicked me again asked me who I was trying to fuck, asked me to stop coming on to everyone. I stopped smiling. He kicked me again. This went on and on. Outside the restaurant he grabbed my hair and pulled me down to the curb it had been snowing he buried me in snow he pounded me in the gutter the snow was melting it was sloppy and mud my hair felt like it was bleeding I ran to…

He was drinking. I was too. I must have blacked out. I woke up in the hospital after five brain surgeries. My hair was gone They shaved it off. I had to relearn to talk and move my arms. It took me four months to remember how to cook breakfast. I remember putting the egg in the frying pan with the bacon I knew the egg felt right I just didn’t remember to crack it open just the egg in the frying pan in its shell my head was bald.

After 18 years he beat me in the morning when he was so nice again. I would braid his long hair. I would take my time like I cared so much and I would do it perfectly crooked. I would make the hairs so they would stand up all crazy like Then he’d go forgetting that the bruises on my face were his hand prints He’d walk all cocky in the street all macho in the road but his braid would be so crooked and look so stupid and wrong This shouldn’t have made me that happy it really just shouldn’t have made me that happy.

Heard that he was out with a woman making love and she was fluffing his hair when he was wild on top of her he came home much later and his hair was braided up all right and tight he passed out from drinking then I got up with scissors as he snored and slowly walked to him and just cut the braid off completely off and put it in his hand so that when he woke up he screamed “what the fuck, I am going to kill you”and he jumped up but I had tied his shoes together so he couldn’t run I didn’t go back to him for three years until I knew his hair had grown out again.

I didn’t want to have sex with him. He was drunk I was just a piece of meat to him a big hole. I tried to pretend I was asleep. He elbowed me, jerked me pulled me up. I remember thinking just get it over with He was soft and kept pumping and pumping until I got sore I said it didn’t feel good he said, “Who were you with? Was he bigger than me? Did you like it?” You’re like a mouse with a lion You have to move fast to the door. He picked me up like I was a rag His eyes were numb. I could hear my son screaming his mouth was open and his tonsils, I could see his tonsils. My husband beat the shit out of me He wrapped my long black hair around his hand jerked my head. I tried to get my son“That’s not your son,” he said, holding my hair in his hand. “That’s not your son anymore.” Now he calls me the middle of night weeping, He didn’t mean to beat his wife He didn’t mean to batter her He’s suicidal He knows what his mother went through. But he can’t stop, my son. They took our land. They took our ways. They took our men. We want them back.