The storm was grueling
I wasn’t sure I’d get out alive
even following the aftermath
I didn’t think I’d survive
The physical blows didn’t cut
as deep as the verbal fumes
bruises became darker
leaving my emotions in ruins
(How must one touch the stars
when they feel nothing is theirs
for the reaching?
How must one climb
when their feet
seem to be slipping?)
I heard encouragement often
which made my heart swell
but words come easy when
not living in hell
In my solitary moments, I pondered
over those adjectives and verbs
and finally grasped the strength
to pull me up and move me forward
It’s not easy to break away
from the storm
but Hope is the illumination
that will always bring us home
LScott © 2013
I prefer writing in first person, but the content is fiction.
However, I wrote this for those who have been
or are in abusive relationships.
I hope and pray they find a way out;
no one is deserving of anything less than being treated
with love and respect.