Domestic Violence

Crimes behind closed doors

tears interrupting chores

“it is my house, my wish”

bruises from angry fists

blame it on the victim

who can’t let it sink in

how love turns into hatred

how their face is now dented

too afraid to speak up

hiding from the hunter

blaming it on yourself 

maybe you provoked them

reputations are at stake

white lies to repair the damage

everytime a hand is raised,

a passive teardop wets the page

two broken souls converge

mistrust and bad blood surge

who can you even trust?

when your heart is about to burst

let go of all the temptation

to offer a chance of redemption

a single voice gets recognized

against a thousand people who tried