Because I Have No Scars

If truly a husband’s words held up a wife’s head,

Then I would walk head bowed, with my shoulders bent,

The light that once danced in my eyes all but dead

My reservoir of peace and joie de vivre, spent.

 

The fist proceeding from your mouth delivers blows

Your snide remarks an open palm upon my face

I start to feel the familiar seed of hatred grow

Threatening to asphyxiate my beauty and my grace

 

As long as you can boldly say, “I never beat her”

What does it matter if my self-esteem is now in tatters?

Or that the shreds of my joy float away like paper,

When as far as the eye can see, I have no scars?

 

I am earth’s treasure, jewel of inestimable price,

My value abides in me, plentiful not sparse,

So I refuse to cower under the glare of your eyes

I hold my head up high, and they think I have no scars.

 

My face, my back, my limbs are smooth as baby’s bottom

There are no crutches, no band aids, no doctor’s letters,

And so my lashes, my pain and tears they cannot fathom

“Did he abuse you? And if he did where are the scars?”

 

Mountain or molehill, it makes no difference to me,

Strength lives in my heart to love, to forgive and stay;

But when tall mountain comes crashing into salty sea,

That very strength will guide this woman’s feet away.

 

 

For Hodiya, the resilient.

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5 thoughts on “Because I Have No Scars

  1. Great poem. There may be more scars than we see, when verbal abuse is the form of love that we receive on marriage’s lea.

    On land or sea may this our portion never be.

  2. Lovely poem… showed it to a friend and here’s a sequel He wrote:

    I would not like to be this wife
    To suffer from so much strife
    To have my heart always bleed like it has been cut by a knife
    To live less than a hale and hearty life

    Why love with so much pain?
    Why feel like life is such a drain?
    No one sees my invisible tear stain
    Or bothers to look beyond the momentary gain

    Today I vow, no longer again
    I will leave his false shelter and stand in the rain
    I will choose my own brand of pain
    I will leave with the next train

    hehehe….. hope you like it. I’d love to send you a mail… is that ok?

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