For ANY woman who sees herself through the eyes of her abuser.

Domestic abuse: The hush-hush, emperor’s new clothes wearing, elephant in the room that no one wants to acknowledge. Well, I ┬áhave never been one to remain silent. For, those who remain silent in the face of oppression side quietly with the oppressor. As such, I have courageously grabbed my elephant gun and I am prepared to proclaim publicly and most loudly to the Emperor, “You, sir, are naked!” Some things cannot be unseen. And for those of you forced to identify yourselves with portraits painted by the crippling strokes of a maddened artist, I hope to hold before you a new palette, and show you the true beauty that lays quietly beneath the paint.


For the first time; this second,
I see myself.
“ME”, as meant.
Not the “she” you intend.
I see not,
The ugliness your words describe,
but a beauty,
mere words will fail to relay.
A beauty felt…
not spoken.
Though constant is your fire,
misplaced, is your aim.
I am not, the target idle,
nor will be I, the haven,
or bulls-eye for things born of your insecurity.
mettled in arrogance,
and fired in cowardice.
I am not the picture you’ve painted me in.
And removed have I, that piece,
from the wall of my mind.
Hang does now, an image new.
Fashioned with the strokes of hands,
more skillfulled in love.
And displayed am I,
as first I was created.
And viewed am I now,
with eyes of appreciation.
That focus on contents,
within the edge’d frame.
No longer have you,
the power to loom.
The cocoon in which I’ve slept.
It is now, but dust.
Trampled ‘neath feet that forward, do forge.
And there, I plant my foot.
For the first time, this second.
I see myself.
as meant.
A piece of the Master.
A Masterpiece.

2 Responses to For ANY woman who sees herself through the eyes of her abuser.

  1. Chance, this poem is so eloquent. Yet I read your words and I feel your pride in spades, your righteous indignation and anger at such an affront to be served on the undeserving, the innocent, the weakness of a woman beneath the strength of a man. This is a declaration to her, afraid and fearful of being broken in every sense of the word, but mostly the heart. It’s a reminder that she is worthy of respect, regardless of the senseless violence meted out; regardless of words that would shove and shake down and break down her worth. Domestic violence breaks trust and is a generational evil that taunts behind closed doors. Thank you for speaking out.
    D. J .Blackmore

  2. I am most grateful for your words, Deirdre. Friends, very dear to my heart, have found themselves victims of abuse in all forms. I am most grateful that you realized that these words are not about the weakness of the abuser, but rather the inimitable strength of those who overcome it.

Leave a reply