Best Domestic Violence Poems


Premium Member Domestic Violence

Dark heart
Onyx bruises
Madd lover
Entrapment fooling
Swollen lips
Teal tears
Indigo ears
Crying years


Violet prayers
In shelters
Only light
Love weathered
Emerald eyes
Need sleep
Courageous flight
Embracing peace

Premium Member Cry No More


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!

Gaslighting

Gaslighting

Your words are etched deep into my skin,
They must have hurt, these scars,
But you told me they were beautiful, 
And I believed you.

Your accusations have ripped my flesh in,
My brain and heart, are stored in your jars,
But you said I was safe and beautiful,
And I believed you.

I am bones in a cage in a rusty bin,
I have forgotten my dreams, and the stars,
You said they were never beautiful,
And I believed you.

I am dust, in air spread too thin,
I float through the gaps in the bars,
I feel the warmth of a spark within,
The glimmer of hope from afar,
The shimmer of lights that begin
To glow, burn, blaze, char,
You towered over me, so beautiful,
I was so ugly and useless, you see,
But I somehow held onto the choice 
To believe not in you, but in me.
© Shay Mohi  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Domestic Violence Survivor Written by Mrs Yolanda Nicholsen

i'd allowed you in again even thou my soul 
was shattered god was quite displeased as you 
hammered your dark fist against my rib cage 
senseless i thought an yet you were forgiven again 
even more than the last time i'd carefully packed 

garments birth certificates and social security cards 
while dripping tears and blood onto the blank pages 
of my new residence a safe place chanted across 
the empty lines then availibility  how many beds 
as we poured into the entrance the sign read safe 

you are not alone an yet i'd left everything i was 
centered in a room of over fourteen other women 
quiet timid angry how we failed at making a male 
happy within his own skin how he'd torn into us all 
it was like the same man had beaten us all an yet 
i knew only you calm cool collective when the cops 

came taking you around the corner to cool off 
where was i here in america why i was all races 
all religions an yet i was harmed while the worse 
part of my abuse was returning to my abuser 
how you emptied me into silence covered in tears 

black and blue an yet i missed you washing the bruises 
with soft soap our children were shattered as i explained 
daddy was ill he was sick he worked very hard to care 
for us if we were more quiet well behaved he would 
respond to our energy and love us deeply as deep 

as i allowed myself to be abused this was america 
oppression depression family ties became wrath 
as i whispered he know's not what he does 
we are loved as i planned a new home among strangers 
an yet they were me i was all of these women a safe place
 
sorjournal truth home the harbor light inn the st angeline 
christian center chaplins office the salvation army 
cornerstone community outreach shelter the springs 
outreach where was home in america as i embraced 
you served you were ill you would someday change 

abuse would become softer cycles will be broken 
but here in the in this space in this place 
and in this time you became plural that's all 
as i soon became very small why i soon became 
safe

Written by Mrs Yolanda Nicholsen

Premium Member My Poem Made Into a Video- Domestic Violence

I was contacted months ago by a person named Lauren Godly. She's a media student, and she asked me if she could turn my poem, Adored to Abhorred into a video. It's finally been completed. It's such a wonderful feeling when you know that your poetry can help make a difference. 


Adored to Abhorred

from owned to dethroned
you led me
from queen to unseen
you hid me
once crowned to now bound
you kept me

absorbed to derobed
you left me
a spectacle to be gawked at
you jeered me

from diamond to dust
you threw me
once devoid of lust
you spurned me

and yet, here I am
  naked
       bleeding
              dishonored
  unwanted

here I stand
here I smile
biding my time a while
knowing as I do
the inner splendor shines through

I bathe my naked body
perfume every curve
comb out my raven hair
for I dare
This is swear:

None can usurp my throne
It's mine and mine alone
I climb the stairs
and they all stare
yes, they stare
so aware
the Queen has returned
your history’s been burned

I'm here
more beautiful than before
radiance galore
I see you
with flames of desire
once more in your eyes
you...watch me.....R^I^S^E

my glory emanates through
every idol set up by you
adoration's MY due

It is true:

discarded to lauded
I taunt you
demeaned to re-queened
I rule you

I reign, I disdain
don't be vain
your plea to return
I will burn
spurn
I'll watch you yearn

you can't take me back
I know what you lack
a heart and a soul
I won’t make you whole

Knighted to blighted
I see you

And so….
adored to abhorred
I leave you


Eileen Manassian Ghali

Reality of Domestic Violence

I am silent although this monster
of my isolated life seems to hear
my thoughts, smell my fear and
taste my hate.
Suddenly I am pushed against
a wall gasping from utter pain.
Held by my neck I feel a fist
clashing against my tender face.
I fall, blood pours from my mouth
and now cracked lips.
I try to run but I am stopped with
my hair being pulled with such 
force that I scream from the 
top of my lungs.
It drags me to the bedroom,
my face constantly in pain
from the ever repeating hits.
Suddenly I feel my legs being
widened, I scream once more.
I struggle to close them,
tears of pain and utter hate
rapidly run down my now
swollen face,
they burn my wounds like acid.
I feel something penetrating 
inside of me, I scream once again,
it is of no use, no one seems to
notice or simply hear.
It pulls itself out of me and kicks
my tender side,
still I lie here on this floor feeling
dirty and ashamed,
ashamed of my own self and
weak mind.
I shall never escape this monster's
presence for he has eroded my 
free will and inner strength.
Fear controls my thoughts.
Until I embrace the truth my life
is impounded by domestic violence,
never to be freed,
never to be seen and never to be
one with the glory of hope.


Not Your Fault

It's not your fault he hurt you
that he made you feel so small 
A man should be a woman's strength 
And help her stand up tall 
It's not your fault he scared you 
and left bruises on your skin 
or told you not to speak that way
while standing up to him 
It's not your fault he didn't know
the way you should be treated 
Or made you feel ashamed 
So that you would keep it secret 
It's not your fault when he said he'd 
Change you would believe it 
Because you're kind at heart
the bad sometimes
you couldn't see it
It's not your fault you loved him
Or even that you cared 
Or that you might feel lonely 
to think of him not there 
It's not your fault 
that he used you 
Only for his gain 
Or that he abused you 
And caused you loads of pain 
It's not your fault he pushed you
said things to make you cry 
It's not your fault that he refused
When you tried to say goodbye
It's not your fault 
that to feel safe you had to lie
Just remember that it's not a fault 
to be too sweet inside

Goodbye Memories

Launch the lecture,
tear me down 
to never build me up,
you couldn't build a wall
if a thousand bricks were around.
Time after time,
you watched me fall
as you pushed me over the ledge,
I watched your anger swell.
Living in your shadow
is my personal hell,
memories of a tomorrow
that never came,
I'll never be the same.
I won't let it be in vain.
I look out of the window
into the night,
that room fills me with fright,
this space is still
so full of hate.
The memory of you is more than I can bear,
sometimes it feels like you're still there.
You terrify me,
still to this day
more than anyone sees.
Remembering what shouldn't be,
memories flood the night 
through the trees.
These windows hold so many stains,
crying on a floor that 
holds so much pain.
Seeping, leaching my soul,
when I crumble
I don't feel whole.
Remembering your face
makes me stumble,
it doesn't carve my path,
even if a memory is all I have.
When it doesn't feel real,
was it a bad dream?
You infiltrate my dreams
in so many shapes.
I fear the end,
what will seal my fate.
I see your smile,
that's what I hate,
so bad it gives me the shakes.
I miss what never was,
a life without you in it.
I pray that one day
it will quit
and I can say goodbye.
I'm afraid of fate,
of ceasing to exist
at the hand of another.
My dreams detonate,
the violence created
from pain so deep seated,
memories plague me,
afraid to take the leap.

Dedicated to my abusive ex.

Domestic Violence Hurts

~Domestic Violence Hurts~

Often, after leaving home in the 1980's I pondered in caring ways with a philosophy of sorts that we can either have a positive impact or negative and there really isn't an in between when relating to each other.
I found myself in dark places with the darkest of people just focusing on a shimmer of light, hoping to open that up on some individuals and when they began to recognize it, and a slight smile would come across thir face I would make my way to another dark corner with another hopelessly alone man or woman to do my humanitarian works.
One person though I was no match for. After six long months he said I saved his life. After seeing him in near respiratory failure with a needle hanging from his arm, sweat beads the size of pencil erasers and gasping for a deepened breath; to see his face, drug free was amazing and though I knew that eventually I would move on, I became a victim and later the victor because alone I stand to make a difference and share my stories with others to give hope and enlightenment at the causality of violence.
In the summer of 1985 he asked me to have children with him. At first I said no. Many nights into they long conversations, not knowing exactly what my travels would include. I then with an endeared heart agreed, knowing that I could make a very nurturing mother and had much to teach and give.
After our first child, he became very controlling. Emotionally injuring me was a way for him to find a level that he was comfortable at. 
Then later the drunken physical confrontations that anything could set off. He beat me for the way others had treated him, his family, his past girlfriends. He would go into black outs as I stood still taking the blows over the years (forgetting my cause)I remember I would look into his eyes as he was hurting me, looking for some kind of answer to the reason why, and I drew a blank every time.
I was a nurturing mother of three, I was a protective parent after all, he only hit me? Surely I could get past that. 
~continued~
© Cindy Lu  Create an image from this poem.

Domestic Violence

We need to seriously talk about living in a dangerous predicament 
Where everything in your life is awry.
You won't win an argument.
It's no accident 
When a person receives a black eye.
We need to seriously talk about living in a dangerous predicament.
He wants to make you subservient.
For you to feel motified and by his hands you could
Even possibly die.
You won't win an argument 
These attacks will be come more frequent.
Believe me! I can testify.
We need to seriously talk about living in a dangerous predicament. 
The man is virulent as well as violent. 
Please! Don't deny.
You won't win an argument.
It's amazing how you do things that are inconvenient to
His grandiloquent 
Way of life which just goes to signify 
We need to seriously talk about living in a dangerous predicament.
You won't win an argument.

Behind Bars

Eff around 
And find out.
Freedom don’t come easy.
The steel bar resort
Ain’t no place to be,.
But, eff if I know,
I ain’t ever been to jail.
Should have been,
But I got lucky.
Toothpaste on the walls,
To hold up the memories.
Watch how you talk,
Or it’ll be your back against the wall
And you’ll be just someone’s memory.
One hour outdoors,
Privilege ain’t easy,
It’s the first to go when you get thrown in iso.
Phone calls, 
No go.
Letter are your only plug
To the outside world.
They’ll forget about you,
Might as well let go.
Nah, bro,
Family is forever,
Only friends come and go.
Just kidding,
When you’re a woman beater,
You’re left with no one
To showe for.
Rot. In. Hell. Bro.

Don'T Run Back To What Broke You

You broke me
when I wanted to be free.
You broke me 
more than anyone sees.
Trauma created loss,
I had to hit pause...
on life,
because continuing
hurt worse than a knife
to my chest,
you tried your best
to destroy me.
Your reach was further than it seemed,
you touched me
with ease.
You poisoned my soul,
you dug me a hole,
so down I fell
everyone could tell.
I felt like a sell out,
like I'm an alcoholic
and you're too stout.
So intense,
you're a true menace...
to society,
but you were my remedy
for so long.
I was so wrong
to trust you,
say it's not true,
how bad you tore me,
wide open
and planted a seed.
I screamed,
I tried to flee,
you held me down
and watched me bleed.

Domestic Violence Hurts Part 2

~continued~
Many years after I got away from him I then realized what an effect and affect it had on my children and still the insecurities and trust issues surface at times.
They are aware of why we decided to have them being unmarried and trying to get a grip.
What do we have in life? Without them I would be nothing, have nothing to look forward to and as selfish as it was I know that the God I serve surely blesses all of us with delight. Wer have grown as a family. I prayed in the darkest times around the Christmas tree with their little hands together, it was a prayer for God to let us be meek throughout their young lives so that I may teach them real values. At times it was a challenge and I felt bad but then I would remember my prayer. I became quite eccentric with my teachings. 
Recalling when they were very young students we took the entire Thanksgiving dinner to the park. With our winter coats on, I set the table at a picnic table and it was then the mood was set to tell about the first thanksgiving. My oldest son says that today he thinks about many ways that were out of the ordinary that back then he thought nothing about us being different.
I say that different can be good. Why focus on the bad when we are richly blessed in life so many times each and every day. I look at the simplicities. I didn't have to look back at the past and forgive because I forgave him the instance after the vile acts were committed and I didn't look back. It what was~
© Cindy Lu  Create an image from this poem.

One Too Many (Domestic Violence)

It is in the heart of Man to prey. 
Weak seeking weaker 
to make themselves strong.
Rag dolls 
simper behind 
a clever line 
a silver tongue 
a Charmer’s charm. 
It’s all been done and 
yet we fall. 
Hook. 
Line.
Sinker. 
Doe-eyed, 
we embrace the bright-eyed-winker. 
Searching for self in a snake’s charm. 
Ignore the Whisper 
we take his arm 
and pray 
Lord, do not let me be deceived. 
Do not lead me astray. 
Show me your will. 
All the while 
we are beguiled. 
Weaker still.
© Melisa May  Create an image from this poem.

I Matter, To Me

It started with a scent, a touch, from him,
Something once loved, now causes fear deep within.

The wrong joke, look or word said,
Would cause him to see red.

Screaming, shouting, pushing, shoving,
Abusive words and bloodied fists replaced all the loving.

Caressing fingers, now clench a throat fighting for air,
Blood running into eyes, blurring the horrified stare.

As the world grows dark and consciousness fades,
Suddenly, I snap back and hopelessness cascades.

Crushing the terrified soul of the beaten one,
That this nightmare is not quite done.

Broken, bloodied, bruised, and battered,
A soul that feels lost, alone, and shattered.

Then one day a voice screams from within,
You've survived this far! NOW, get away from him!

Taking a chance, darting out the door,
Running for a life so he can't hurt it anymore.

Never again will I let a man think he can beat me into submission,
I've learned I matter, TO ME, and no one can take that, not even him.


*This is very personal to me. I was in an abusive relationship when I was 18, but I survived and swore that it would never happen again. I'm now in a healthy and happy relationship with my husband and 7yr old boy. Both of which I am very grateful for.

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