I knew I hated you and a child would never change you, but I didn't know how to leave. So I grew a person to share in my misery. I knew that was selfish but I knew better how to lie to myself, "Everything will work out for the best".

I knew that my troubles lived in my mind and within our bed and within our conversations but I convinced us to move 1,000 miles away to escape those troubles. The troubles grew more hateful but now I was away from the help of friends, and away from the shame of their knowing.

I knew our son was not thriving with you but you did not know how to earn money, and we were hungry. I left you two alone and hoped for the best and let you spend all the money I made, because that would make you happy. But I knew that the happiness didn't last long and niether did the food.

I knew the 1,000 mile journey to our home would mean a lower cost of living which we needed now that you knew that working was less frustrating than staying home with a baby. I didn't know then that our time together was almost over but the hopelessness was not.

I knew that I would put up with all of your actions because everyone knows children need two parents. But I didn't know that you were capable of demanding sex, indifferent of my clearly stated disgust and pain. And it was then, that I knew where I drew the line.

I knew that being a single mother would be difficult but I had no idea I'd be so hungry and so poor and so depressed.

I jokingly thought to myself today "I'm so hungry I might could give a blow job for a cart of groceries" and then I realized, I couldn't or I'd still be with you.

And a few hours later, hungrier still, I wondered if I ever really knew anything at all.

This stranger before me has shared

My bed for more than two decades

He has provided daughter's care

And gone without much accolade

When we met, we drank and partied

Went to bars, clubs, shows and pool halls

Did our share (more) of drugs sordid

Enjoyed many, many last calls

Now, though, I proudly boast of him

And his greatest victory yet

Cancer two times, life failed to claim

And, his biggest triumph as yet?

Sobriety, be a worthwhile goal

Booze so central, our history

Yet, my daughter's childhood it stole

It's foregone pleasures a mystery

He is true war hero, fighter

Liquor doesn't stand a chance, no

This warrior, husband, stranger

Kicks what has cemented us so

I bid goodbye to familiar

And pull the comforter down some

Make room for this familiar stranger

As he lays his new found clear dreams

Hope one day soon struggles reduce

So that he sees his battle won

And, maybe even can deduce

That I've been there fighting along

I've been punching and praying too

Not knowing if fighting or God

Would be most helpful to pray, do

Still, I cried, I sobbed and I bawled

I pledged to this stranger my love

Forever, come whatever may

To that vow, with help from above

I'll stay true- love this new stranger

Sober you

The stranger knocked upon the door,

A creaking, wooden throb,

And someone on the other side

Unlatched and turned the knob.

Uncertainty, a soft, "Hello,"

And, "May I use your phone?"

The person on the other side

Appeared to be alone.

An observation taken in,

No pictures on the wall.

He pointed somewhere down the way-

"Go on and make a call."

The thunder boomed; the stranger stalled

As wires were cut instead.

The gentleman began to sense

A subtle hint of dread.

A conversation thus ensued-

"So what has brought you out?

The rain has flooded everything,

And wiped away the drought.

Say, did you walk, or did you drive?

Why don't I take your coat?"

The stranger slowly moved his arms,

A sentimental gloat.

The water from the pouring skies

Enveloped cloth and shoe.

"Say, would you like a place to sleep?

I'll leave it up to you."

The person on the other side

Discarded his mistrust.

The stranger said his tire was flat,

And shed the muddy crust.

"The phone won't work," he also said.

"It could just be the storm.

Perhaps I will stay here tonight,

To keep me safe and warm."

The patron of the house agreed.

He hadn't seen the wire.

The chilly dampness prompted him

To quickly build a fire.

"You have a name? They call me Ed.

My wife was Verna Dean.

She passed away five years ago

And left me here as seen.

I guess it's really not so bad.

We never had a child.

I loved that Verna awful much,"

He said and sadly smiled.

"No property to divvy up.

The bank will get it all.

Say, do you want to try again

To go and make that call?"

The stranger grinned and left the flame

As to the phone he strode.

Within his pocket, knives and twine

In hiding seemed to goad.

A plan was formed- he'd kill the man;

Eviscerate him whole.

The twine would keep him firmly held;

The knife would steal his soul.

A lusty surge erupted hence;

A wicked bit of sin.

The stranger hadn't noticed yet

That someone else came in.

About the time a shadow fell,

He spun to meet a pan.

The room around him faded out

As eyes looked on a man.

A day or two it seemed had passed,

And when he woke all tied,

The stranger gazed upon old Ed

Who simply said, "You lied."

Reversing thoughts, the moment fled

And Ed said in a lean,

"No worries, stranger. None at all.

Hey, look, here's Verna Dean!"

He looked upon a wraith in rage;

It seemed his little lie

Combusted in a burning fit-

He didn't want to die.

So many victims in his life,

Some fifty bodies strewn.

And now he was the victim; now

The pain to him was known.

The stranger fought against the twine,

And noticed by his bed

The knife once in his pocket left

A trail of something red.

A bowl filled full of organs sat

As Verna poured some salt.

She exited with all of them.

"You know, this is your fault.

We demons wait for just the day

The guilty take the bait

And play with matches one last time-

I simply cannot wait

To taste the death within your flesh;

The venom in your gut.

So now you know the way they felt-

Hey, you've got quite a cut!"

The person on the other side

Removed his human skin-

Before his wife came back for more,

He offered with a grin:

"Say, stranger, is there anything

You'd like to say at all?"

I looked at all the blood and said,

"I'd like to make that call ... "