~three simple words, that bring forth ancient memories~
bruises blossom on her cheek,
fingers leave marks, they are not there
suffering in silence
shades fall, a liquid amber fire fills her
pain hidden, smile forms on split swollen lips
dams of tears never falling
shush little one, it is not, it did not, it was a dream
suffering in silence
eyes gleam darkly
screened from view, fear hides, she dies again
shattering glass, bones gleam
pain howls, hot amber rivers smother her sleep
suffering in silence
rust colored rivulets run
awakening within, what was will never be again
curl up, breathe less
amber pours down, igniting gleaming anger
suffering in silence
cocooned in blankness, hiding
fingers grip, hands block flailing arms
wounded howls, break within
slicing outward, there is no soul to keep
suffering in silence
freedom grows slowly, unspoken
words like worms burrowing upward
it's shallow roots drink long
pain blooms forth, searching for a home
suffering in silence
irises of light fill the gloom
hues of blue, green, fade with time
peaceful pennies cool her eyes
forever in sleep, he lies waiting no more
suffering is silenced
*I am no poet. I know this may seem rough and jarring to the senses, there is much emotional memory involved within these words, some from my own childhood experiences, and the several women's lives that were a part of the flashes of memory that filled me when I heard the words "suffering in silence" spill from another woman's lips. I apologize to anyone if you find this disturbing...but...domestic violence is disturbing.*
6 comments:
Very painful to read. Thank you
I don't know what to say. The poem was good, if so much pain can be good. It leaves me feeling disturbed. You okay?
I do apologize for the poor quality of the writing, but the words, the feelings were some that had to be...maybe eradicated from me..is the right thought...not sure yet.
I am sorry it disturbed you deb, and yes I am OK, better than I was anyway. Thank you.
Discomfort is part of life. Those words resonated with many women, I'm sure. Too many.
It's worse to live, hiding them away.
Big Big BIG hugs
I'm just glad you're okay and there's nothing wrong with the writing. Jarring is a good way to put it and I imagine that's how it would feel, rough and jarring, so the writing is a perfect match for the words and the feelings. It's not supposed to be pretty.
Thank you both, for your understanding regarding this writing of which I feel very uneasy myself.
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