A Poem written by one of the women participating in the Storytelling project.

Behind those closed doors

Scared to say anything wrong
Afraid of what might happen
Behind those closed doors.

Demon dark eyes
The expression on his face
I was his punch bag, until I lay unconscious.

He would rid his anger, beating me
Until I came around – round and around for a decade
Scared for my life.

The punches still kept coming
Down
Behind those closed doors.

Curled up in a foetal ball
Tears flowing from my eyes
Wrapped up in a blanket of nicotine to release the pain.

But only for a while

A prisoner in my home
Controlled by an authoritative hand
Holding me down, telling me what I can’t do.

I long to be free
Free of this pain and control
To do what’s important to me.

It’s my cross to bare
The nightmare haunts me, what do I do?
Behind these prison bars.