abuse takes many forms


Fatal Trip



It was a trip

Into oblivion,

She knew it well,

But still she went,

Not sleepwalking,

But wide awake,

Into the arms

Of her tormentor.

The bruises, cuts,
And broken bones
Would heal, again
And again,
And scars
Might fade.

But not the stabs
From cruel words
Which festered,
Unseen, untended,
Which no salve
Could ever heal.

Those were the wounds
Which tore out
Her very heart,
And which
Proved
Fatal.






Poetry by Marie Cadavieco The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 448 times
Written on 2018-11-18 at 09:29

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Kathy Lockhart
Yes, I understand. Your every word is honest and valuable. The truth of abuse in all its forms is that it destroys. However, sometimes there can be rebirth and freedom. Artistic expression is a creative way to help heal.
2019-04-02


jim The PoetBay support member heart!
He broke her spirit.

This is a sharp glimpse of reality, spare, to the point, and effective. I appreciate this.
2018-11-18