My Brain is Fractured

Her brain is fractured.
P. D. hit it repeatedly with a hammer.
Her skull is intact. It is her brain that is shattered.
It feels like a thousand piece puzzle pouring out of its box.
 
She says to no one, “I do not deserve this smashed up head. I was an obedient child. I followed the rules. I married well.”
 
She never fully noticed the loathsome creature lurking nearby until it was quickly upon her, strangling her sweet voice, repeatedly rattling her innocent hand, glueing her foot to the earth. How much longer can she abide this despicable enemy? Will her brain be crushed completely? Too empty headed to speak? Who will fend for her?
 
Now Hear Rumbling and Stirring in her soul. A wry smile on an otherwise rigid face, she becomes her own Heroine. Feminine Ass Kicker, the Goddess and Protector of herself.
 
Bring forth the shield of knowledge. Dance Tango gleefully around the missed blows of the bully. Put on the gloves. Box Him, Punch him, Spin him, Ride him. Charge ahead, synapses now loosely rewoven with meditation’s Chi. Take prisoner the hammering Fool, the Dirty fighter; render him powerless. Laugh in his ugly face.
 
The Evil one stays with her, but now on a closely held leash. Her fractured brain functions in haphazard fashion, shards of grey white matter affixed with the superglue of her Gritty determination. Yet still she is Joyful.