My goal in sharing this poem is to show how quickly and violently an abusive relationship can escalate.
It's so, so important to tell someone if you or anyone you know is in an abusive relationship. Violence does not stem from love, and it's never OK. No matter what he/she says, it's not your fault, and you don't deserve to be treated that way. No one does. It can happen to literally anyone – male or female.
Tell someone, before it's too late. Please.
It began as surprise attacks of affection. It was kinda cute. You kissed me to end the argument, or snuck up behind me for a hug.
Then came the shocking expressions. It was eye opening indeed. I felt trusted. That you were relaxing around me. Showing the real you, even if it wasn’t all beauty.
Slowly you “opened up,” more and more. I remember thinking: ‘nothing is wrong, we’ve just passed the honeymoon stage.’ I bit my tongue, and held my breath so that your poor soul wouldn’t fret.
Yelling came soon. I had witnessed reverse metamorphosis. You transformed into this ugly creature that ate everything in its wake.
Fear came quickly after that. Each time you raised your hand to scratch your back, I flinched, and thought of apologies. I was ashamed. I had made you this way. “I didn’t mean to,” I’d planned to say.
Bruises followed in the next few days. You quit scratching your back, and began breaking mine. I dropped a plate once, and I could have sworn I tried to steal your last dime. You reacted faster than the plate broke. Snapping your whip.
Tears arrived afterwards. You stormed away, after the order to “clean up this mess, and get me a new plate.” “You’re a heifer, not a horse, why the long face?” was your clever joke you’d say.
Epiphanies graced me, finally. I replayed every moment. Every, “I love you.” Every scream. Every tear. I quickly realized there was more sadness than love, and even more terror than sorrow. I took a deep breath, and planned my escape.
Regret was with me as I packed my things. Regret for dropping the plate, regret for speaking that way. I held my breath, thinking 'if I could just disappear, then you’d end up okay.'
Running. I was running. From our house. It had long before stopped being a home. From you. You had disappeared into the darkness. Your mind was not your own. I hoped.
Tripping. I remember tripping. I hit the coffee table, and everything was fuzzy.
Beating. I remember the beating of your heart, and my body.
Crying. I remember crying. The mixture of salt and blood burned.
Regretting. You, I remember being the only regret.
Smiling. I can’t remember smiling.
Loving. I don’t recall loving.
Hating. I remember slipping into your habitat, as you took me away, your face was the last thing I remember hating that day.
Withering. I remember being eroded by your fists. I even quit screaming, as I was withering away.
Dying. Ah, yes. I remember that one, as if it was happening now. I spilled your beer, and you had had a long day.
This is the domestic violence hotline website: http://www.thehotline.org/
There is information on whether or not your relationship is abusive, help for those in need, resources for survivors and victims, contact information, as well as information on how to help those who have been affected by abuse.
Say something. If you know someone who is being abused, it is your place.
