Behind Closed Doors
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This poem I dedicate to all those who have been, who are in a situation of 'domestic violence'. If you are, seek help. Don't stay in a situation you cannot change. YOU CANNOT change another person! A controlling, abusive, jealous person needs 'professional help' and 'you' need to be SAFE. Domestic violence almost always starts out like a little problem and then continues to escalate, becoming an ever increasingly dangerous and volatile situation. ♥
Her wedding day was beautiful, when she wed her beau,
Innocent and trusting, so little did she know
About the man who had stolen away her tender heart
And now wed to him she was, 'til death do they part.
The best wife she could be was her innermost desire.
She cooked, cleaned, and kept well stoked their fire.
Her top priority, her husband and always number one,
By day she worked and gave herself when day was done.
Making him a happy man was her role as his wife.
She did all she could to give him a very happy life.
But friends and family still mattered much to her too,
Though finding time for them was becoming hard to do.
Her husband made it clear what of her he expected
And when she took time for others, he felt neglected.
So, less and less time she had to with others share
And for herself as well, but her hubby didn't care.
More and more demands he expected of his loving wife,
Subtle ways to achieve being in control of her life.
Because she loved him so much, her aim was to please,
She was too blind to see what he was working on to seize.
Then came the remarks, he would say were in jest
But then he'd add, she wasn't giving him her best.
He became more critical, increasingly more cruel
And then the name calling, abusive ridicule.
Since she loved her husband, she trusted him as well,
She blamed herself for failing him, too ashamed to tell.
Her thoughts became consumed of ways to earn back his respect,
But the more she tried, the more her husband seemed to object.
Disagreements became heated when she'd herself defend.
Giving in to him was the only way an argument would end.
Each argument he won, he would gain more ground,
Convincing her his mind was the only one sound.
He would then start arguments for the sake of belittling,
As he knew her self worth and esteem, away he was whittling.
Then one day he slapped her so hard across her face,
As he enjoyed the look of terror he put in its place.
The power from it he felt made his warped ego soar
And so, he continued to beat her down to the floor.
The more she cried to stop him, the more empowered he felt,
As he watched his handiwork add another swollen welt.
As he primed her into being his obedient slave;
As she begged for her life for him to save,
He blamed her for his actions, made her to, agree
She deserved her punishment, to swear as her precis.
And so, the loving wife became a fearful, sullen bride,
Seeking ways to, her battered and bruised body, hide.
Her marriage, an entrapment, she dreamed of escaping,
But images embedded across, through her mind, were draping.
While the husband she loved once became a monster unexpected,
Made it his ritual to abuse her like an art to be perfected,
Her world became darker, more dismal, trapped in isolation,
As her life once so vibrant was nearing suffocation.
There was no one to rescue her because to the world outside,
She was still to her husband his loving, lovely bride.
Behind Closed Doors she suffered, paralyzed in fear
And only with her last breath did her freedom then appear.
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2018-04-30 23:14:00 (EDT)
All rights reserved.
Copyright © Artsieladie Sharon Donnelly | Year Posted 2018
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