Where am I?
I've got on my new dress
I'm choking on stale cigarettes
Doing my makeup in some dude's rear view mirror
Under the visibility that a streetlight has to offer.

Do I know you?
You're some tall, unassuming figure
Who hovers over me
As though I am your prize.
Your gaze captivates me
Like I am something to be treasured.

Are you the same person?
Now, this handsome knight in shining armor
Is nothing but a monster.
"******* *****, *****, *****."
You scream as you shove me out of your way
The first day you hit me with the back of your hand.

What is this place?
I'm searching for courage
At the bottom of a glass
Of some cheap liquor
On the rocks
The bartender becomes my therapist
As words and spit are spewed.

Are you still there?
The dark man from before
Holds me down beneath his fists
As the skin of his hands and that of my face
Become one with the tile floor
Bruises bind me to his will
For he threatens much worse should I run from him

Why did I stay?
They ask
The general public refuses to understand
That defense lawyers use this as a means
Of excusing the accountability of the partner in question

Why do we ask?
After all, this is but another way we as a society
Blame the survivor
And excuse her abuser.

Let's start asking the right questions.