It starts like a whisper
threadbare promises,
soft hands hiding clenched fists
beneath the skin, bruises bloom quietly,
seeds of silence sowed in the dark corners of a home.
A smile fractured at the edge,
where love's architecture crumbles,
and the voice that was once free
is twisted into the shape of a question:
Am I not enough?
A door slams, not in anger
but in fear.
The echo swells in the bones,
stays in the walls,
turns a house into a prison
where every footstep is weighed with caution,
a rhythm of dread,
beating louder than the heart.
The world outside spins on,
but inside; there is no time,
no refuge, no escape.
Even sleep is just another war fought alone,
dreams choked by the shadow creeping
over pillowcases and quiet sighs.
And yet,
the grasp tightens with a smile.
It is tender, this violence,
a slow suffocation dressed as affection,
coated in apologies that evaporate
before they touch the air.
It doesn't arrive with storms,
but with lullabies that cut deeper
than screams ever could.
What is love in a house that forgets
the meaning of sanctuary?
Where the windows close
to keep the world out
and the mirrors crack
under the weight of too many lies told in silence?
It hides in plain sight,
in the slow erosion of spirit,
in the small sacrifices of self
until nothing remains but an echo,
a ghost tethered to the earth by fear,
too afraid to walk into the light
and too tired to fight the shadows
that cling like a second skin.
And the world wonders:
Why didn't they leave?
But it's not the leaving
it's the unraveling.
Each thread of identity,
each step towards the door,
pulls against a gravity that speaks
in the quiet voice of terror:
You'll never make it out.
You're already gone.
Still, in the deepest night,
there's a flicker, a spark,
a refusal to be fully extinguished.
The insidious grasp weakens,
as the heartbeat that remains
remembers its strength,
knows that hands meant to hold
do not leave scars.
And someday,
a door will open.
The house will breathe again,
and the quiet will become
a sanctuary once more.
Domestic Violence is unacceptable and yet it permeates many aspects of our modern society. It's time to change, learn and seek help. It's time to look within and not repeat the spiral of our past, and previous generations. Be the change we wish to see - today...
