Death by a loved one … poetry form.

by Lana Bardot

Click here: “PLEASE BE ADVISED!” before reading.

This is truly not an easy read, and if you have not yet read “PLEASE BE ADVISED!”, I suggest you do so now.  I wrote the original version of this piece ironically on Valentines Day 2009 and edited it to this poetry version on February 24, 2009 for a contest on WdC.  The reviews I recieved told me how difficult it was to read through this piece, so I implore you now to be cautious of what you are about to read.

I remember when I first wrote this piece, the disassociation was significant.  The words came quick, flowed without hesitation, and it wasn’t until I was finished writing that I realized what I had written.  It took me by surprise when I read each word, and my heart grew heavy as the memory of these nights began to rush in, yet at the same time, I felt freedom.  It was the first time I truly spoke about this, without holding back, without keeping little details buried inside me, without hiding the little truths I thought didn’t need to be said.  I unchained myself, because I allowed my soul to speak up.

Today I share with you one of the “Secrets” I used to keep hidden for almost 10 years.

Death by a loved one …

Killing me behind closed doors.

~*~

The surface of my skin begins to crawl within its self,
Causing the muscles to tear and rip from the bones.

Lusting and starved eyes, hungry for power and murder,
Like a banshee, they scream through the icy silence of the night.

My shallow weakening walls tremble with every slice of his cut,
He taunts, tortures and kills a piece of me with every stroke and glance.

~*~

My soul, exhausted, torn and tattered,
Clutches hold of my spirit, lost, beaten and tormented.

My heart, shattered, emptied and bleeding, drowns,
With tears that flood inside; sinking what is left of me within myself.

Bugs and insects crawl and slither across and throughout my skin,
As his invasion rips and stabs the delicate flower of my love.

~*~

With every extortion of his selfish want and desire, my body screams to hold itself together,
Desperately it tries to believe the rhapsody of lies, deceit and betrayal he sings.

I dare not move, yet, my body betrays my minds plea for it to stop and anger flames,
Now held down, the monster takes without disruption and an intense force of possession.

Trembling from pain and anguish I have been gifted and clutching at the cold wet sheets,
I struggle to search for the scattered pieces of me, to uselessly build myself back together.

~*~

A corpse of who I used to be, as minutes of his murder weigh down,
Like a lifetime of a quicksand hourglass, I lay alone.

A groan of success echoes within the walls of the dark room,
A victory of conquest fills the haunting silence of our ghostly abode.

Rising, he basks in the red stained trophy of his war,
Walking away proudly with an evil smile of completion.

~*~

Returning sated from his feast of me, sleep quickly graces the wicked one, and I
Rise to tend to the wounds of battle; cuts that sting sharply and emotions that refuse to still.

Distraught, frightened and helpless, I pray for hours with desperation for an escape,
As the storm of emotions refuse to still and I lay in the stained battlefield of our war.

Tears that can no longer hide, flow freely against the coldness of my face, turning away
From the innocent children that lay unknowing, I float in and out of consciousness.

~*~

Waking to the dawn of a new day, I place the mask of a loving wife, and
With silent footsteps, I open the door to the world and walk into the darkness…

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4 Comments to “Death by a loved one … poetry form.”

  1. Lana, thank God you came through and also thank God for your courage, grace and rawness in sharing. Gratefully reblogging.

    • Thank you so much.

      I am very thankful and blessed to have made it through this. And today as I look back at the words I have written, I am very grateful that I had the courage, strength and support to have written this piece. It shows me how far I have come and it reminds me to keep moving forward.

  2. I don’t understand where the evil comes from. I don’t understand how these monsters live with themselves. Very powerful piece, Lana.

    • Thank you so much.

      I don’t have the answers. I have an idea of what the research says, but at the same time, I think it’s missing pieces. Only as more and more ‘abused’ come out of the fog, the light begins to shine through and it is then we learn more and more.

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