my poetry

my poetry is the inner part of myself, although some may not underrstand them, shrug after reading them, its my heart, my emotions crying out to be heard, be acknowledged.  I share my poems with my children, yet they dont understand the need, the drive that makes me want to share them with others. Maybe thats good. That they dont understand abuse. My writting is simple, so most people can understand and to tell the truth, because i quit school in 8th grade when i became a teen mother. Later i got my diploma, then some college, but the years lost, in general spelling and reading, makes me a horriable speller. although im good at making excuses, i was in a hurry writting this…or i type it wrong…smile. you get use to hiding things sometimes to well. I created this blog so i can express and share my poems with someone who has the misforune of understanding abuse. I was goings to the womans resource center in winona minnesota, they suggested writting down your abuse as a form to outlet if your unable to tell your story, so most credit should go to them.

heres my first poem i wrote about abuse

All these thing you’ve given to me
Bruises, Marks,
Screams, Hurts,
Unfounded Accusations…
Total isolation…
Threats, Terror,
Nightmares, tears,
Emotional High…
Worried I’ll die…
Low self-esteem,
Hurtful remarks,
Unwanted lust…
Slaps, Mistrust…
Broken bones,
Hitting, Pushing,
Shoving, Fighting…
Endless lying…
Humiliation, Misuse,
Emotional abuse,
No Friends, No family, No Help
Is this really what love is?

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