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Battlefield Behind Closed Doors

Poem

By Meg TaylorPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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Battlefield Behind Closed Doors

Envision

Where his hand is less intimate with her face

The world isn’t such a dark place

I won’t find her at the bottom of the stairs

And see bruises she wears

No more

Will I stay up late hearing her cry through the vent

I won’t hear lies she had to invent

No cops will show up at the door

While I’m left to answer for

We put behind us

The emotional destruction of home

No place felt safe until we could roam

Sleeping with one eye open

The youth that was stolen

The battle

He drowns in each bottle

His rage was nothing less than colossal

I hide in the corner of my room

We await the explosion that will consume

Eleven years later

The occasional flinch at a raised hand

Even I misunderstand

Some people get out of the battlefield

Let’s help the others be revealed

heartbreak
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