But he's sorry, and that makes it okay

He hurts her with his nonchalance and uncaring dismissal.
He hurts her with his accusations and jealousy.
He doesn't hurt her with his fists, it's true, but it's only a matter of time.

The first time, it's an accident,
An argument carried too far
And he's sorry [so sorry]
She smiles bravely, ignoring the ringing in her ears and the sting of her cheek.

The second time, it comes easier.
He's so frustrated. his life is so wrong.
She's glaring up at him [he can't remember why] and he snaps.
He watches, satisfied, as her body jerks.
Her eyes are stunned and he is powerful.
{His apology is in his eyes}

The third time, she almost expects it.
It starts with a demand, thick fingers clenched too tightly around a thin wrist.
She struggles, but he's too strong
And he punishes her for her resistance [a pinch, a punch]
{He brings her chocolates to apologize}

She wears long sleeves to hide his marks.

The fourth time, he is jealous.
She talks to another male— looks at him, smiles. and this boy—
This weak, pathetic baby—
Touches her arm. and she laughs and doesn't move away
So he grabs her by the throat when they are alone
Pins her traitorous body against the wall
And when she begins to protest, he cuts off her air.
That'll teach her to betray him.
{Later, he tucks a rose into her books}

Her friends remark on the idiocy of wearing a turtleneck when
Spring is coming and the sun
Beats so warmly on their [innocent, unbruised] faces.
They don't realize that harder things beat on her now.

And the fifth time, and the sixth
And the seventh and eighth and ninth
Continuing through the teens and twenties
Until she no longer counts,
She never knows what will set him off.
She lives in fear of his anger and withdraws from the world.
No contact with friends, no revealing clothing [hide the bruises; don't show skin]
{But he's always sorry, and she loves him still}

And we worry
because she's changed, you see.
No more laughter, no more smiles
We know something's wrong, but she won't talk.
{ Nothing's wrong, she insists with too-bright eyes.I'm just busy }

And one day we receive a call.
Through the sobbing [she is our light, our most-loved]
And recriminations [We should have seen it.]
One thing is clear:
Her doormat days are done