One woman’s view of her troubled marriage filled with domestic violence.

Today he brought flowers…

Just a month after our wedding day…

Head down low…

While shuffling his feet…

For a moment he seemed more like a little boy than the man he seems to be.

As I admired their satin finish…

Inhaled their delicate scent…

I listened as he stuttered out his “I’m sorry” and “You know how I get.”

Of course I granted forgiveness…

The sting on my cheek was a dull reminder to keep my unasked options in my head.

Today he brought me flowers…

The dark stain of blood their color that lingers on their tips.

Three years since we said “I do”…

Many bruise I have sported for the careless words I have said…

Broken bones for the misdeeds that I have yet not learn to commit.

Like cooking dinner late…

Forgetting to make the bed…

Then there was the time I forgot the toilet paper in the guest room…

That day I took two days to my bed.

This time I spilled a little coffee when we were in the car…

For the first time he lost it until my eyes were black and blue.

I know people notice it but they look the other way…

They don’t understand he loves me…

It would happen less if I used my empty head.

I add them to the others that are wilting as days go by…

Kiss him on his cheek with caution so not to anger him yet again.

Today he brought me flowers…

Our newborn is now dead…

He just kept on hitting me until I laid down on the floor and bled.

This time I am in the hospital…

Tears running down my face…

Been thinking of the words spoken by family and friends.

My hand lingers where life once grew…

Nothing more now than a human grave…

Everyone wants me to leave him before the next one is me…

I am thinking they might be right but I am too scared to leave.

Today he brought me flowers..

A sight I now hate.

I hate seeing when the bouquets come toward me….

I hate what they mean…

Just want to run away…

Want to get the sight away from me.

Now I’m going where he can’t touch me….

Today they lay me to rest…

I’ll never endure his flowers or his rage ever again.

I have stopped making excuses…

I have stopped trying to love his hate away.

I am going to Heaven now where my baby waits for me…

He lays his bundle on my casket…

Kisses my bruised cheek before walking away…

Couldn’t help but smiling as I the handcuffs on his wrist…

As I watched them leading him away…

No more flowers he will bring me…

No more pain he will inflict…

Now I can rest easy knowing that he’s finally gone away.

2
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  • flame007 on Apr 29, 2010

    very heartfelt nice share

  • K.D. Storm on Apr 30, 2010

    Thank you flame007. Both for reading and commenting. This seems like such a common problem that I had to write about it. This is part of collection of poetry that I wrote years ago and decided to put online.

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