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We all like to think that if we were the victims of domestic abuse we'd up and leave - but it's not always as easy or straightforward as that. Women stay with abusive partners for all kinds of reasons - they love them, they fear them, they have children with them, they believe they can change them or they simply have no where else to go. - Kate Thornton

Although her tears were more real 
	than any words, any screams, the dreaded yelling
		criticizing, arguing, condemning…

reckless words who failed to understand or recognize
	the feelings, softly dancing, from the darkest fears,
		pouring from the opening in pores where doubt stained
			verses echoed the pain, the grief, the tears…

gushing like rivers, emptying the damaged spirit, the drenching
	wounds warring with heartfelt yearning,
		pleading for the light, the embrace of a caring
			who cares? Who cares?

silent, he stands at the door, erasing the music from her tears,
	reaching beneath the gentle, to a burial ground of loathing
		a distant dream perches on her heart, like hope,
			but not quite so sure…

she fails to hear him when he cries because his tears are swallowed up
	in trails of painful injuries, silent thieves of joy,
		agonizing, feeding on the past…

which was last seen screaming for feelings, bleeding quietly,
in the still, cool waters of abuse, 
	domestic violence, trembling on the lashes,
		misty eyed and almost as dramatic as the stories

beneath the quiet graves, who roar with the assurance,
	finally protected by the only One who could save her
		from the shame, the pain, the despair…

burning in her eyes, tears fall… ignored by the one who hurts her so,
	but wiped dry by the One who called her home….
so cry no more… cry no more!

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