Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Get Help

I wrote the following poem in 1994, after leaving an abusive relationship. I left in the middle of the night, literally holding one lens of my glasses up to my eye so I could see to drive to my parents' house, because my abuser had shoved me into the floor and broken my glasses. I was scared shitless running to my car, afraid he was running after me to drag me back into our apartment, like he had done on previous occasions to continue beating me. To those people who would say about Janey Rice "Why doesn't she just leave?" or "If it were me, he wouldn't do that and get away with it," well, I said those things too. I debated even putting this on Facebook because it's the most personal thing I could possibly share, but if someone else in this situation sees this and decides to leave their abuser, then it's worth it. If that someone is you, go to the Domestic Violence hotline here: 

http://www.thehotline.org/

Babylon
2/7/94

How he can make you feel your whole life
Your whole being is wrong
Like you’re the one who’s crazy
Like you’re betraying him
Even after the ugly words
The bouquets of bruises
The battered soul and tattered appearance
But that sickly-sweet, mothball and pipe-smoke scent of 
Claustrophobia is so strong
You’re smothering – 
Pieces of a puzzle you’ve worked on 
Your whole life, mostly finished
He rips away one by one
Chews them up so they’re 
Soggy, grey and lifeless,
Spits them out stomps on them
Like he did you, curled into that
Pathetic screaming ball at 2 in the morning,
Trying to shield yourself from fists and feet,
The shrapnel of his anger – 
Those puzzle pieces gone forever now
But parts of him still stick to me
Like leeches or wet leaves,
Burned in my brain
Butterflies of bruises alit on my arms
My thighs
Hideous Monarchs of yellow and green
Black and blue
Winged terrors that won’t fly away anytime soon
 And an endless cacophony of whys
In this Babylon of my mind
Fists and feet may break my bones and
Words will always hurt me – 
The only thing left is a shell
So fragile and cracked
With nothing left inside
Almost (nothing)
But some tiny (miniscule) spark screams
Save Yourself
I Think I Can
And I slip out the door like a thief in the night
Stealing back what was already mine.