Can I complain?
He puts clothes on my back –
a roof over my head;
listens when I tell him
everything’s crap
with the world.
He makes great coffee,
rubs my back when it aches,
so can I complain
when he beats the shit out of me?
He never means it – says
he’s sorry. It won’t ever
happen again and he’s dead right.
It doesn’t …
until the next time,
but only because I broke my word
that I wouldn’t let him …
Maybe I’m as much to blame.
I should resist more strongly.
Try to fight back
when he clamps
both my wrists
with just one hand.
He gave me my children.
Put rings on my finger. Vowed
to love me, for better or for worse,
as did I. So, can I complain?
Like hell I can. Only, I won’t.
I’m an Esher girl
and where I come from,
nice girls don’t.
Comments
Nathan Bednarek | March 11, 2009 - 22:00
Phew! Now this is a different way of looking at things. This is a very poignant piece. Amazing work.
The emotional state of the girl is wonderfully captured here, even though it's very disturbing.
Please teach me!!!
;-)
Nathan.
Silver Spun Sand | March 11, 2009 - 23:31
;-)
Tina x.
MistakenMagic | March 12, 2009 - 11:34
This is brilliant Tina! And those little rhymes sure help it flow perfectly ;)
Loved:
He never means it – says
he’s sorry. It won’t ever
happen again and he’s dead right.
It doesn’t …
until the next time,
but only because I broke my word
that I wouldn’t let him …
So true, sad that things like this just keep happening over and over again in this world!
Magic xxx
Silver Spun Sand | March 12, 2009 - 11:40
You are dead right there, Magic. There are many, both men and women, who suffer in silence.
My thanks to you for reading. Glad you got something from it:-)
Tina xxx
jennifer | March 13, 2009 - 13:25
Powerful, strong persona voice...highlighting an issue that is so often tabooed,
J x
Ewan | March 13, 2009 - 13:54
Wonder if Mac liked it?
[hides under table in cellar]
Silver Spun Sand | March 13, 2009 - 18:15
Glad the poem came across as intended. My thanks to you, Jennifer.
T x
Silver Spun Sand | March 13, 2009 - 18:17
;-)
We used to have a cellar, once. Frequented usually, by drunken mice and voles who drowned their sorrows (sorry about the pun) in fermenting wine. Hic!
Dynamaso | March 13, 2009 - 22:20
Echoing the above: powerful, poignant and honest. It is indeed a hole many find themselves in. I think you've portrayed it very capably.
Silver Spun Sand | March 13, 2009 - 23:32
Just ... thank you.
threeleafshamrock | March 23, 2009 - 12:44
Wow Tina, don't know how I missed this one. I echo all the above; powerful and startling. Inside the mind of the abused; great strong write!
Chris X
Silver Spun Sand | March 25, 2009 - 13:09
Thanks, Chris. Much appreciated.
Tina x