Its heavy breathing,
heart stopping,
as a heavy man
crushes you
beneath the sheets.

You scream,
but he silences you
with threats.

Then shame
becomes the name
of you silence.

Years unsteady,
eyes unraised,
walking afraid;

Whistles
send shivers,
nerves
on an edge so deep
that sometimes
fatigue
is not enough
to bring you to sleep.

This is not my story,
but I am trying to see,
hoping to understand
so, I can be
a better man,
a helping hand
for those in need.

But when I speak to loudly
sometimes
you cannot breathe
because of the anxiety.

Then this poetry
of attempted empathy
becomes my shame.