Abusive Relationships

To be perfectly clear starting off today, I have never been physically, verbally or emotionally abused in my life. I was very lucky that my Grandad and Ma, especially Ma, were able and willing to take me when my mother abandoned me at six months of age. I grew up in a very stable home with a stay-at-home grannie and an aunt that is only five years older than I am. But, as in every family, there were relatives that weren’t so lucky. Later in life, I had friends who were in bad relationships and couldn’t seem to get out of them. I always wondered why they didn’t just walk away.

Now that I’m older, I’ve actually talked to some of these relatives and friends, and while I can’t completely comprehend the inability to just leave, I can empathize. For some, it has to do with money, while for others, they just simply don’t know anything different. A few were just waiting for the right time or just finally had their fill and have managed to get themselves free.

I’ve received a lot of comments on the following poem, telling me how great it is that I finally escaped. Well, to be honest, I didn’t escape. I simply put the experience of thousands into a first person perspective. This one is for those who have escaped; I salute you. It is also for those who haven’t; I wish you luck and hope for the future.

Cry in the Dark

I sit here in the dark of night
out on the porch, back out of sight.
I see a cat beneath a tree,
he sits there and he stares at me.
Across the street there is a child.
He runs around and acts real wild.
His mother calls for his attention,
screaming words I cannot mention.
And as she gets more profane,
her words become a scream of pain.
I see the child begin to cry,
as he asks “I wonder why” ?
He shuffles towards his house real slow,
already begging, “Daddy, no! “
He looks so sad and so alone,
I cannot take it, I get the phone.
This young child has touched my heart,
and now I must tear his family apart.
I stand here in the shadows now,
and to myself I make a vow.
My children will not know that fear,
their mother's screams they'll never hear.
I'll never strike them out of anger,
and for my love they will not hunger.
I need to go in, it's getting late,
but there's the cops, I think I'll wait.
I watch them take that father to jail,
and know he'll soon be out on bail.
As I step inside I start to weep
then check my children as they sleep.
They'll never know how close they came
because our life was just the same.
They're too young to remember
how we ran, just last December.
I only took what the car would hold
and drove away in the cold.
I left him there passed out from beer
I ran for love, I ran for fear.
My nose was bleeding, my eye was black
I swore to myself I'd never look back.
Now I'm a mother, but not a wife
At least we have a decent life.