Stormy PoeticJustice
7 August 2009
Fist
How could she let him hit her?
That shit would never happen to me!
The first time a man raised his hand,
I would strike first,
bringing him to his knees.
I ain’t no Miss Celie –
no man would ever fuckin’ beat me!
I couldn’t possibly understand,
so I never saw it coming.
One day I woke up and
the one I judged was me.
This wasn’t a Lifetime movie.
There were no warning signs
hidden in the deafening silence;
there was no honeymoon phase
or obvious cycles of violence.
I don’t even know when it began –
I just woke up one day,
wondering why I never ran.
No money of my own,
lease not in my name.
Screaming shook the walls
when we were alone,
but we were the perfect couple
when company came, so
“our” friends were none the wiser.
And when I finally confessed
and asked for help,
they called me a liar.
“You don’t look like the type
to let someone hit you…”
There was no afterschool special
to prepare
me for this –
no one ever told me
that my girlfriend could
raise her
fist.