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Sara Barrett Jan 29
They tell her, it’s not their place.  
Say, he’s always been good to me.  
Say, she should have left sooner.

They say a lot of things,  
but never the ones that matter.  

Her black eye is a private matter.  
Her broken ribs, just a lover’s spat.  
Her ******? A tragedy—  
but never a crime until her name  
is trending in the headlines.  

When she packed her bags,  
they called her selfish for breaking the family.  
When she stayed,  
they called her weak for not leaving.  

But where was she supposed to go?  
Shelters with no room?  
A courtroom where his lies outweigh her bruises?  
A graveyard where they’d whisper,  
She should have known better?  

They say, not all men.  
Say, he was under stress.  
Say, he’s a good dad,
as if a man who leaves his children hungry,  
their mother in pieces,  
is anything but a walking threat.  

And you—  
the man who doesn’t hit,  
but laughs at the ones who do.  
The one who turns away when your friend grabs her wrist too hard.  
The one who stays silent when your coworker brags,  
"I keep my woman in line."  

You are part of this.  

You are why she doesn’t call for help.  
Why she learns to stitch her own wounds in silence.  
Why she dies and they ask what she did to deserve it.  

The system says, report him.  
Then calls her bitter.  
Then hands him weekends with the children—  
the same children he left cowering behind locked doors.  

And when she’s gone, they’ll ask:  
Why didn’t she say something?

But all she ever did was scream  
into a void of indifferent men,  
silent women,  
and a world that let her be hunted.  

So hear this now:  

If you know, speak.  
If you see, stop him.  
If you call yourself an ally, act.  

Because the only men who fear consequences  
are the ones who know they deserve them.
"Bruised by Silence, Built on Indifference" is a poignant and unflinching exploration of domestic violence and societal complicity. Through powerful imagery and stark language, the poem confronts the indifference that often surrounds victims of abuse, highlighting the painful realities they face when seeking help or escaping their situations.
The poem critiques the harmful narratives that blame victims for their circumstances while calling out those who remain silent or dismissive in the face of violence. It challenges readers to recognize their roles—whether as bystanders or enablers and urges them to take action against abuse rather than perpetuating a culture of silence.
With its raw emotional depth and compelling call to allyship, this piece serves as both a reflection on systemic failures and a rallying cry for change. It speaks directly to the heart of the struggle many women endure, making their pain visible and demanding that we all become part of the solution.
Solace Nov 2024
god it would be nice to be so ignorant
it'd be really nice to ask that
it would be and so
i'm a little envious.

and, yeah, it's my fault.
i should have foreseen this.
but, by god, use some common sense.
everyone's staring now.

at the spot where my wrists meet the table nightly,
where the bruises line up almost methodically
like the kids in the courtyard.

at the white traces on my forearms,
like maybe i scratched too hard and one nail got caught
like maybe i pick the sharpest nail and rake my skin

at the scabs where my cuticles should be
because i couldn't focus today
i couldn't breathe and that tiny pull and that trickle of blood
made my lungs restart

and i feel like i should thank you
and i'm truly glad you don't know what you're talking about
but until then, please keep your mouth shut,
before you cause any further damage.
it's worse when it comes from your former best friend
like i know we don't talk anymore
but i saw you cry over your parent's divorce
and maybe there's nothing there but
it'd be nice if we could pretend like we still care
even though i know you don't
Karmen was Heard Nov 2024
You want me to take off my clothes
The clothes of my soul
You want me to turn around slowly
Standing bare in front of you
So you can get a good look at everything
You want me to show you everything
But I know what you'll really see
You'll see my
Scars
Bruises
Darkness
Things I've long locked away
Letting few if any see
But I have one question
When I am laid bare
Will you run away?
Will you see how many
Scars
I have and worry they'll cloud my view?
Will you see my
Bruises
And wonder if I'll give you any?
Will you see my
Darkness
And worry that it will spread?
Or would you look past all that
Search for my perfections
They are there
Just few and far between
And if you see my imperfections
(Which I know you will)
And my perfections
What will you decide?
Will you stay?
Or run?
As so many have
Partially inspired by 'Dark Side' by Kelly Clarkson.
Ayesha Zaki Sep 2024
Reminiscing old, long-lost memories
that we once lived for,
is like pressing on bruises
that are not yet healed.

The bittersweet pain of our reverie,
seeks to mingle
with the weary, blurred lines
of the so-called 'peace'
we've come to accept.

Maybe it’s not the silence
or the yearning for what's long gone,
but the desire to at least,
for once, feel something
in this slow-burning,
hope-filled fever dream.
It seemed to go on forever, yet I still woke up.
leeaaun Jan 2024
another
new year
yet i carry all the same
wounds and bruises
Blake Sep 2023
I can't learn to let you go,
You toy with my bruised used youth,
And I need to need you,

Even whilst the
black and blue spreads.
It takes 6 times
David Hilburn May 2023
Brown temples
Avid, too sore for sense?
Background music, finding what will...
A look of devotion, for a tooth called suspense?

Black wishes
Turmoil is a vaguer clique
Of comment's, sigh's make God's fishes
Just a rue to understand what is...

Grey orbit's
Of miasma, found in a suggestion's field
Known by sight, a bird has wit's
Another bird has seen the sun, and it's yield

Green future's
Vicinity to unity, the poor
Is realm to *****, word's of impurity
Set amid tree's, worth their wars

White death's
Would we save a child's shadow?
Regret as hot, as marvel's lead
Meant only with yesterday's yawn, are we that we are, mellow?
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