See.

He
Became still
Like the wind before the
funnel cloud.
Suddenly his arms flailed as if
he were a juggler,
and when words came
they were daggers as
he struck her.

He
Immersed her in his rage
with a rhythmic attack
that only subsided when
his madness rested and
her pleas for mercy
repeated like a scratched
record.

She
Splayed on the floor
like her spattered dreams
heard him say as
he staggered away,

See what you made me do.