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When the marriage ends,  
and the child is still too small to understand  
what's been torn,  
why is it that the man tells his friends—  
"She was crazy."  
"She never got off her ***."  
"She was too emotional."  
"She never took care of the kids."  

And no one asks him,  
"Why did you stay?"  
Why did you have children with her?  
Why did you marry her in the first place?  
Why does she have full custody now?"  

No one dares to ask,  
because they already know.  

Men stay—  
for the comfort of control,  
for the invisible chains that bind women  
with babies,  
with promises that were never kept.  

They know,  
the way a child knows their mother’s touch  
but never her heart.  

The man knows his power in her silence,  
in her labor,  
in her sacrifices—  
the ones no one sees but her.  

And yet, when she walks away, they ask her,  
"Why did you stay so long?"  

Because they know the cost of leaving  
was more than she could afford.  

But still she walked.  

Still she left.  

Why did she stay?  

For the love she thought might change him.  
For the chance that maybe—just maybe—  
he’d become the man she believed in.  
For the hope that her children would have a father who cared.  

But he didn’t.  

He stayed because he knew—  
the house wouldn’t run without her.  
The kids wouldn’t be fed,  
the bills wouldn’t be paid,  
and the image of a family was more important than the truth.  

Men stay because it’s easier to claim a woman  
than to be the man they promised to be.  

And when she leaves, they don’t ask themselves,  
"Why couldn’t I be better?"  

They just ask,  
"Why did she stay so long?"
"The Unasked Questions" is a powerful exploration of the silent struggles women endure in challenging relationships, revealing the complex emotional landscape of marriage, separation, and societal judgment. Through raw, unflinching language, the poem exposes the systemic dynamics that trap women in cycles of sacrifice and silence, where men's narratives often overshadow women's lived experiences. Released during **National Teen Dating Violence Awareness and Prevention Month (TDVAM)** in February, it resonates with the theme of breaking free from control and reclaiming one's voice. The poem challenges reflexive blame placed on women by turning the lens on unasked questions—Why did he stay? Why did he have children? It dismantles convenient narratives while honoring the resilience of those who walk away despite overwhelming costs.
V3NUS 2d
I swear my parents arent divorced
my dad just lives in a different state
we see him on the weekends
we're going to live with him perminatly after the school year ends
yes my mom is coming too
my friend keeps telling me my parents are divorced and my explanations make it seem like I'm proving his point
When it happened, I was very angry and I was also stunned.
My wife filed for a divorce just because Donald Trump won.
My wife is smart, sophisticated and she's also very pretty.
But I learned that she's also superficial, shallow and petty.
My mother always told me to appreciate what I've got.
But if you're wondering if I still appreciate my wife, I sure as hell do not.
When she broke my heart, she didn't even feel remorse.
After seventeen years of marriage, she filed for a divorce.
I begged her not to leave but she packed her bags and walked out the door.
I was hurt at first but I've learned that I'm lucky not to have my wife anymore.
For a while I couldn't stop crying because what she did cut me deep.
But I'm a fortunate man to no longer have her because she's a creep.
THIS IS A FICTIONAL POEM BUT IT'S REALITY FOR SOME MEN
Zywa 5d
Our divorce party

is great, it definitely --


bonds us together.
Novella "De zomer hou je ook niet tegen" ("You can't stop summer either", 2015, Dimitri Verhulst), page 85

Collection "Loves Tricks Gains Pains in 10s"
I don’t have to change the names,
hide beneath hyperbole and metaphor,
or remove details to protect our guilt.

Neither one of us is blameless;
we both created a storm that left behind lifetimes of wreckage.

And I dare not pretend this is in honor
of the beauty we were in the beginning.

No—

this is an ode to a tragedy that will always be:
the you and me that we became.
Jiāwén Liú Jan 25
In frigid shadows of a broken vow,
My heart, a prisoner, in silence cries.
Forced to yield, unseen chains bind me now,
Where love's cold absence breeds a storm that sighs.

She walks unburdened, draped in self-made light,
A queen unstained by tears my spirit weeps.
My yearnings mocked, a one-sided plight,
Betrayal's embers where true passion sleeps.

A barren wasteland, where our dreams lay slain,
Hope's fragile bud choked by a loveless rain.
My silent screams unheard, a whispered pain,
Lost in the darkness, love's deceptive chain.

Isolation's grip, a serpent's cold embrace,
Tightens around me, fueled by her cold grace.
I reach out, grasping for a fleeting trace,
Of the love we once shared, now displaced.

Invisible chains bind me to the past,
Memories haunt me, can't escape at last.
Like a ghost, I wander lost, outcast,
Trapped in a love that couldn't ever last.

Each link in the chain is a bitter regret,
Moments lost forever, I can't forget.
I'm shackled to a love I can't reset,
Tangled in a web of love and debt.

The weight of the chains bears down on my soul,
A heavy burden I can't control.
I long to break free, to finally be whole,
But the chains hold tight, taking their toll.

Unseen chains, invisible but strong,
Bind me to a love that's gone so wrong.
I'm trapped in a cycle, where I don't belong,
A prisoner of love's haunting song.

I search for a key to unlock the chains,
To free myself from these loveless pains.
But the chains remain, a reminder of stains,
Of a love lost in sorrowful refrains.

I long for freedom, for release from this plight,
To soar like a bird in the clear, free light.
To break these chains that bind me so tight,
And finally find peace in the still of night.

But until that day comes, I'll endure the pain,
Of living with these unseen chains.
Bound to a love that's left me drained,
Haunted by memories that still remain.

Unseen chains, a burden unseen,
A weight that crushes all my dreams.
But I'll keep on fighting, despite how it seems,
For one day, I'll break free from these loveless schemes.
This was written once I discovered that after 3 years of separation, I was in a loveless marriage.  She had forsaken and abandoned me but kept me around to do her bidding, the mundane things that some think that a husband is only good for.  Living in separate homes, paying for both.  I realized the worst, that it was irrevocably broken, unrepairable, but that I had been shackled to it.  This poem acknowledges that pain, suffering, and shame, and that I need to find an escape, no matter how painful and hurtful it became.
Lundy Jan 25
Invasive Ivy grew around the house we built.
Crept along confidently.
Watered by people who didn't love me.
Flashforward to 2018. Desperately tearing at Ivy.
Wondering if I imagined that baseline foundation beneath?
Was she still me?
Tearing, ripping, fighting
Until I can see the foundation beneath me.
Erenn Jan 3
He wakes each day with a spark in his chest
A quiet whisper, "This time's, my best."
But the hours dissolve like sand through his hands
Leaving behind half-built plans

The world seems to race, a river too swift
He’s caught in the current, adrift, adrift
Each promise he makes, each vow to achieve
Dissolves in the shadow of dreams he can't weave

His home echoes soft with unmet intent
A partner's sigh, a love half-spent
Conversations linger, threads left to fray
Words unspoken at the close of the day

At work, his desk tells tales of delay
Piles of tasks like clouds turning gray
The ladder he climbs bends under his weight
Each rung a reminder he’s always too late

And yet, in his heart, a flame still burns
A stubborn flicker, a longing that yearns
To be the man his younger self saw
To mend his cracks, to rise from the flaw

But the maze is vast, and the path unclear
He carries the burden of hope and fear
He doesn’t see failure; he sees the fight
A life still searching for its light

@Erennwrites
Only at your lowest, your writer's block is clear
Jonah Singleton Dec 2024
Pain has terrorized me for an eternity.

Creator,
I have cried immensely
I prostrate myself before you
long ago, I believed I had submitted
though, apparently
submission befalls me this moment.

How much stronger has my torment become
over a period of many moons now
I can suddenly comprehend the wailing proclamations of dying men
their spirits suddenly snatched from the comforts of their varying delights.
The knowledge is contained within physical flesh
yes, contributing to the composition of memories – cognition
still, those memories are compiled inside of cerebral creases – tissue.
The same portions of knowledge are stored
composing the affectionate and turbulent strings
bonds that serve, only, to tether individuals intimately to one another.

I can now feel, with precision, the agony of broken hearts
continuously trampled upon
or existing underneath the feet of fiends of malicious intent.

Oh,

how they play with the heart
kisses and hugs that deceive my soul
ensnaring my innocence inside of their selfish glee.
Shallow beast!
Who hath no capacity to love
instead,
an endless pit of torment where her heart should be.

An addition of stress
I labored under the collective scheme of those who absconded with my children
such an action that triggered my mental and emotional faculties negatively
a most sinister pain.

Was there something,
at my birth,
that you, the creator, should have explained?
I, youth, grand descendant of the emperor Sundiata Keita
my mature life reflective to that of the biblical Job.
Did you, Elohim the creator, devise my life to experience and endure pain?
The strain upon my spirit loomed heavily
supreme, because of the glass smoke I consistently ingested.
Ultimately, there presented the dematerialization of my personalization.

So, according to those facts of life
it ceases me to promote any wonder of how my life has gestated my hatred
which was emboldened by the thieves of my seeds
prompted by a harbinger of toxic unifications – a devil sent to sever my loving patience.

Creator,
lo,
I gripe because my distress is great
the foundation – that night that my initial hero was slain
unbeknownst to I that night would become the prelude to my life’s testimony.
I have, since, stared into the eyes of men, who presumably, re-enacted my fate -
lonely
eternally heartbroken
so they rejected to engage human compassion
hermits
components of communities comprised of other outcasts
a kingdom of vast distances between denizens
bleak.

Creator, lo
I am soon to quiet my grievances.
I do appreciate that you awaken me and guide me into new days
but, I must ask, still,
why am I to persist in enduring a pain so pure?

Down there,
in the depths of my chest,
my heart contemplates fear and abandonment
my tears remain the testament of my citizenship
the captive of an emotional void composed of a morbidly horrendous uncertainty
they are poised to terminate and bury me.

Creator,
if I collapse of a broken heart before the eyes of them all,
will you carry me?
Yet,
also,
and still,
if I expire alone
my breath ceasing, in the absence of all,
in my solitude,
will you cover me?
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