​the natural order Eliza McLamb

At night he beats his wife
Because he learned when he was five
That crying is reserved for whores and bitches

He's no villain
He's just restoring the natural order
His father before him used a belt

But he knows he's a coward
Needs to make a woman cower before him
So he can wake up in the morning
And cry in his car on his lunch break
Knowing he's become everything his father hates