Little Wooden Box

I wrote this poem about abusive relationships of all kinds whether it be emotional, physical or sexual.

He keeps you in a little wooden box.
Holding you under duress.
This cedar, oak and pine sparkling Sunday dress.
If he sees you move or your eyes well up in tears.
He's repent is swift but nothing changes after the smoke clears.
He burns you with cigarette butts.
He slaps your face for sexual love.
He swears he is the one.
He loves you more than them.
He holds your head under water and covers your face with your shaggy curls.
Over his ndead body, only on his words will you ever come for air.
Breathe again with burned flesh.
This shadow figure keeps you strangled and bare.

By Danielle Searby.

 

16th of July, 2007

 

Reviews

[Siddartha Beth Pierce]

Very raw and emotional write. I know many who have suffered such abuses. You have really captured the essence of it all here. Well done. It reminds me a bit of one of mine called 'Alice' - perhaps you may read that when you get the chance. I really enjoy how you are so swift and succinct with your writing. Nicely done.
Light,
Siddartha