Standing Up

She winced and her lips
slashed a dash
a thin, straight line.
Her words held tight.
So I asked -
keeping the line open; hoping
  she'd somehow understand.
She thinks I like fighting
  can't understand why
  I can't keep quiet.
The monster at the door
you know
always smiles.
He thanks her -
compliments her.
And she
wants me to find the peace.
But I'll tell you this -
Every single time I stand up
to him,
I feel better.
I'll keep pointing out
things I need fixed.
I'm sick and tired of
being another statistic
lost in the mix.
My son came home happy -
so I know I'm doing right.
No I don't like fighting
but neither do I like being pushed
into a depressing little corner.
I do it for my son
I do it for myself
I know she gets it.
She's a mother.