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ABUSE – The Map to Death

28 Oct

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The Map to Death

The fermented smell on your breath

makes me dizzy; it hangs in the air as

decay hangs to a fallen oak; rank but

mellow. Your hand held my wrist tightly;

I felt the bruise beginning and remembered

the look of my battered body and the snap

of your belt buckle on my back in the past.

You beat upon my head and pushed my

head into the hard red dirt at the side of

the road, standing over me in silence; I

could see my blood drying upon your shirt.

When I woke, I was in a basement, it was

dark and dank; spider webs dangled and

drooped from the rafters, mildew covered

everything, it stank, I hugged my battered

body and prayed for my life.

There was no sleep; rats moved about in

and out of the chinks in the dark, mildew

crawled up concrete walls like dark tropical

snakes. Still I would not give up life.

I thought about feelings, I feel my fate which

is laced with fear; a dance travels through my

head the music traveling from ear to ear.

I think of those I love, of the people in my life…

which are you? You walk softly upon the ground,

I walk beside you learning as I go.

The floor is the red dirt of the country, worms

live there crawling over me like climbing a winding

stairs; I sleep and wake with no knowledge of time.

Does God have a plan for me, will the door open

and the air bring fresh life; have I learned my lesson,

will I know where to go.

My body is shaking now, my fear falls away, I will soon

be gone; my hair hangs limp damp tendrils fall around

my bruised and bleeding face, I have nowhere to go.

Outside I hear the song of a wren, she trembles and

I know she is gathering twigs; I want to sing with her;

the leaves whisk across the lawn and I can smell the

roses.

Within the depths of my soul, I can taste the clear

water below the house where we live; I can see the

wounds with the last light of day.

If only I could return to yesterday, but that is not

possible for tomorrow, you will be standing over my

damp grave and speak words filled with lies to those

who are unaware. I have no rights.

I was once a lovely woman even the birds sighed

when I passed by, I tried to live a life of virtue, but

even God cannot save me now.

You will stroke my bruised chin and say you are

sorry while you stand beside another with perfect

white skin; you will hold her hand and tell her that

she is pretty.

Her full lips fit upon yours with perfection, she will

quiver at your touch; but with you, she will never

know freedom; her life will seem like an eternity, her

bones will grow old living with your wanton ways

You are a man, a beast, you love, you hate; your mate

will be your friend before becoming your foe, she will

see your darkness and your light.

You will take away her light and bring her darkness to

you place of slaughter, her eyes will begin to see; she

will hear my weeping from the grave as she is imprisoned

within our serpents den.

She will know madness and despair; she will die under a

ragged moon and it will be a tearless night for you, the

abuser.

You will bury her in the dark damp earth, we will share

our roadbed of dirt, and stone until you find another to

join us in the ravines of your eternity.

©elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

 
10 Comments

Posted by on October 28, 2015 in Poetry

 

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10 responses to “ABUSE – The Map to Death

  1. lynettedavis

    October 28, 2015 at 4:43 am

    Beautiful yet poignant writing!

    Liked by 1 person

     
  2. L. R. Palmer

    October 28, 2015 at 11:43 am

    Wow… I am mesmerized, and devastated. Beautifully spoken and so full of emotion, I cannot help but weep for her… Peace for her, and all of those like her…

    Liked by 1 person

     
    • elizabeth ann johnson-murphree

      October 28, 2015 at 3:26 pm

      Thank you and yes you got the message; thank you for that…this is not an isolated problem but a global one; too many children, women and men are being abused. E

      Liked by 1 person

       
  3. thespiritkeepers

    October 28, 2015 at 4:20 pm

    Intense scenerios. I think there is no God while children are abused as such and lets them suffer a life of torment a byproduct of abuse in their heads for the rest of their lives. Where is the justice?. How long must this go on with the all seeing one? A plan? There is no plan for the abused children while that entity watches. Just lifelong memories of emotional scars. I know I would do something and many others would do something. I just have to look at the concentrations camps of WW2. Why all this suffering and killing of woman and their children. I can go on with many wars and senseless abuse but I would turn my comment into a book and maybe more. Nope I don’t see justice with so many!!

    Liked by 1 person

     
  4. thespiritkeepers

    October 28, 2015 at 7:39 pm

    You’re welcome. Sorry about the rant, Anger rises when I hear topics of abuse as I am a victim also.

    Liked by 1 person

     
 
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