by Zach King-Smith
I stayed with a
woman who was
tough as a bed
of nails drunk.
When she’d
get drunk she’d
swing at me.
Take a swig
from the bottle
then swing.
I didn’t sleep
much at all
those few weeks.
One night
she swung at
me with everything
she had and hit me.
I told her to
get out the next
morning.
Some women are
lovely vicious things
and some men
take it like me.
I’ll never understand
those sleepless weeks.
I was a coward.
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