written by Sylvia
Bruises on her face, she covers with makeup.
Bruises on her body, she hides with turtle necks and long sleeves.
Bruises on her soul, no way to hide, will never go away.
She never knows what the day will bring, what will make him fly into a rage.
She wonders, is it something I said or did, or just because I am here.
She walks a fine line, watching her words with care, hoping he won't get mad.
People ask why she stays and this is what she says:
there are the children, I don't have a job, I can't make it on my own.
These are the reasons she believes, his control complete for now.
What she doesn't understand is the abuse is not about her but him.
His rage and anger, not hers; his failure, not hers; he is a coward, she is not.
The abuse is the control he lacks in the rest of his life and she is there.
Pain from physical abuse eases and wounds heal, leaving scars behind.
Emotional abuse hurts to the very core of your worth as a human being.
The pain in your soul is difficult to overcome, always a lingering doubt.
Copyright © 2008 Sylvia A. Feeley All Rights Reserved