Domestic Violence

A drunk, long before I found alcohol By jfarrell

A drunk, long before I found alcohol

By jfarrell

 

 

Used to watch my dad come home from the pub

And beat his wife and kids

Used to see my mum plied with drink

To walk out with a man and humiliate all of us,

Humiliate me, again

 

When we got taken into Care,

I didn’t know alcohol was involved

(found that out recently)

But, at least that first time drunk

Scared me back into being teetotal

 

I found alcohol at 25 and fell in love with being inebriated.

Up til then, I’d always had a ‘drink problem’

though teetotal,

Fear that one taste I’d end up like them

Fear I’d become him

 

Maybe I’m not far off him, not that different,

I have no wife or kids, so don’t know if I’d hurt them

Maybe I’m just as blind to how alcohol changes me

As he was blind. That’s why

I was a drunk, long before I found alcohol.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

not sure what makes me smarter than my dad, if i am

Family Truths

Family Truths

By jfarrell

 

 

It was addressed to me; it’s my 6th birthday;

Dad’s gonna open it… well, why not? Who do I know at 6?

Little white envelope with a stamp;

I’m chuffed I can read my name…

And someone sent me something, on my birthday.

 

There was a letter and some polaroid photographs;

1973, the height of technology :-)

Dad read the letter, looked at the photos

And went to the pub.

I didn’t think any more of it.

 

About 6 hours later…

“Tell me what you did!” whack!

“Tell me the truth you little……” thump!

“Tell me about these….” as he throws some bits of card in front of me.

I blacked out, somewhere there.

 

And awoke face down in kitchen sink

With hot water being poured over my head;

I couldn’t work out why all the water was red.

“Tell me about these!”

‘These’ being polaroid photographs of my being raped that Summer.

 

Turns out, ‘Uncle Brian’ had sent a similar letter and photos

To my cousin’s parents; he groomed and raped us together;

They went back to Ireland and I know nothing else about him, them;

For me, dad had to beat the ‘gayness’ out of me;

And Uncle Peter still blames me for ruining his marriage.

 

And I still feel like a frightened 6 year old

With no idea of what’s going on.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

neither my parents, nor my cousin's contacted the police - mine was a messed up family

I Knew

We've been drifting apart

Broken path, broken heart

You kept saying we'd find each other

That was until you found another 

As if this was a game to you 

As if you thrived on my pain, too

A different day, and I could have died 

But luckily enough, fate saved my life 

You see, I knew you were crazy

Scarlet cheeks, eyes hazy 

But no one else believed me 

Until they saw me take the beating 

We're you smiling as you tore me up?

I couldn't see, my eyes swollen shut

A punch to my face 

With uncanny grace 

But I figured otherwise

You granted your despise

Out of control and unrelenting

I took the blows and fiery venting 

But you wanted more from this 

One last, passionate kiss 

Your lips tasted of liquor 

And it made me feel sicker 

To feel your lips against mine

The disgusting taste of fermented wine

But I took it all cause I felt your pain

Knew what it was like to live in vain 

The way it feels to walk in shame

When all is lost and you're to blame 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Hey, guys. I wrote this about domestic violence because it's a serious issue. I hope this doesn't trigger anyone. Thanks for reading. 

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A Statistic

She sleeps with secrets, pain and shame,

And all her emotions feel the same

She don’t even answer to her own name

She says ’’ just call me a statistic babe’’

 

Says I could die so easily

Just give up ever so quietly,

I’ve sold my freedom

my mind

my air.

Send this letter to my parents’

If they even care

 

It reads-

''Threw away my future

Dumped it like a stolen car

Now I’m chasing down shots in a dirty bar

When my old life just seems too far

Too far to go back to and too far to regain

Now I look at my world

And know everything has changed''

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Normally I don't comment on anything I write, but I felt this was important to note. I found this poem from a while back, when I was living with a man in an abusive relationship. I was very said that night, thinking about how I had moved away from my family and friends, how much I missed my old life, how far removed I felt from my true self, and happiness. I wrote this feeling like I couldn't escape, but knowing that one day I would do. Eventually I did, and now I am back home away from that man, and almost a year out of my hell. For anyone reading this, it is possible to leave, if you have it in your heart, you can do it. I hope this helps someone out there. Much love, always. R X

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The Aftermath

My memories, are like concave feelings.

Barely there, just moments, fleeting.

As though it happend to somebody else,

As though I had worn another one’s face.

You stole my pride, my love, my life.

So I promised that never again, shall I.

Be broken, bitten, punched or shoved.

But now I find myself, too empty to love.

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Home is a Torture Cell for Me

I feel like being a prisoner,

Inside my own house here,

He doesn’t give me a handful of freedom,

All he gifts me with is boredom and boredom.

 

If I call anyone over the phone,

He appears like a monster making me mourn,

For my effort to contact with others,

Even the windows are like the jail’s bars.

 

I can’t cook properly, he says,

I can’t behave, he says,

I’m not allowed to go for a walk outside,

Since the virus called ‘doubt’ is eating his mind.

 

He has made me bleed repeatedly,

Since I tried to escape desperately,

Grabbed me like an animal,

Throwing me back into his torture cell!      

 

Oh God! What can I do?

I beg of You,

Please save me from this medieval Satan,

Open up a way for me to fly, to run.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Say "NO" to domestic violence. This poem is inspired by the poem "Prisoner in My Own Place" by elliot_jordan. It's written from the perspective of a woman who is undergoing domestic violence.

 

 

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Powerless Pawn

Folder: 
Love Hurts

I am a powerless pawn

In a dangerous game

I am only a victim,

With no reason or name

I am his captive

He holds my fate

My future looks bleak

As he closes the gate

No one can see this

No one but me

My bonds are invisible

They think I am free

But loving him

Is not a choice

It’s demand on my heart

It strangles my voice

I live in terror

I fear the worst

And although he assures me

That I’ll never be hurt

I don’t believe him

He’s said this before

Once I had faith

But I don’t anymore

Scars

I'll walk away.
Just like you did.
Just like you did,
Before you came back
And begged for forgiveness.

I look at you
A pathetic disappointment.
I can't believe
That I was so easily fooled.

You told me that the whole world would become mine.
You told me
That I would be happy.

Am I happy?
Do I look happy?

I have shed blood and tears
Because of you.

The nights when you come home
Drunk and wasted
Are the times where I fear for my life.

I shouldn't be fearing
From you.

You're supposed to be the person
That I come to when scared.
Yet
For you me.
You are fear itself.

I want out.
I don't want to be with someone
Who enjoys
Hurting the people around him.

The crack of your belt
Is a sound that I have become
Accustomed to.

Beware,
The day you look away,
I'll run away.

Escape from this nightmare.

You'll be sorry,
For everything you've done to me.

I'll keep the scars
You've given to me.
To remind me
Of what happened to me.

And to remind me
Of what a stupid idea you were.

Don't look for me.
You won't find me.

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I'll always protect her from you

You beat up your girlfriend because you are a brute.
I tried to send you to jail but your girl won't prosecute.
I'm a preacher but I won't marry the two of you.
If I did that, it would be a very evil thing to do.

It was a sad day when she agreed to be your wife.
I will not help you to destroy that poor girl's life.
Besides physically abusing her, you verbally abuse her as well.
How dare you expect me to help you make her life a living hell!

It makes me very angry when I see her battered and bruised.
I begged her to stay at my house but sadly, she refused.
Your girl is a fine lady who I've known for many years.
It breaks my heart when you make her burst into tears.

You will go to other preachers but I'll tell them all about you.
And when I do that, they'll refuse to perform the ceremony too.
I'll make your girl see the truth if it's the last thing that I do.
I'm a servant of the Lord and I'll always protect her from you.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Even though this is a fictional poem, many women need protection from domestic violence.

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