I’m standing looking in the mirror
She’s not there anymore I fear
The young girl with the dreams
Of first kiss, being loved, many things

Meeting him, love at first sight,
Being kissed under the star light
Weekend nights shared partying with friends
Disagreeing with boyfriend, then making amends

Finally getting license, then first car
Getting job, money to drive afar
Learning about nature, traveling the earth
Learn to skydive, even to surf

Smiling and laughing, planning dream wedding,
Exchanging vows at the perfect setting
News of baby brings such happiness
Doesn’t mind body changes, hair a mess

Comforted in her husbands devoted love
Feeling she’s blessed from heaven above
That’s not me, not my life
Instead I became a battered wife

by Angela Hutcherson-Jenkins


I quietly close the door
Quickly securing the lock
Leaning against the door
I close my eyes
Finally I sigh heavily
Realizing I made it
I finally did it
I made it safely
Taking a deep breathe
I can do this
For I’m stronger now
I promised myself that
Things will be different
No more fear-filled days
Nor terror sleepless nights
Awakening to unfounded accusations
Marked with swollen bruises
Shame lowering my head
A smile slowly forms
I raise my head
I had finally left
I open my eyes
Glancing around in amazement
At my new home
Acceptance enters my eyes
My heart starts racing
Because my reality returns
I acknowledge sadly that
I still feel fear
Yet I smile for
Someday fear will leave

by Angela Hutcherson-Jenkins

posted on http://www.the-laststraw.com 2010/11/01 at 8:44 am

by Angela Hutcherson-Jenkins

I don’t know how to make you see
How your actions have affected me

Your old enough if you want to drink beer
But I shouldn’t have to live life in fear

You know you’re violent when drinking a fact
Why should I tolerate your physical attack?

Three nights ago, when in a drunken fit
It was me while pregnant you choose to hit

Blows to my stomach, knocked to the floor
Caused me to race to the emergency room door

You knew I was pregnant our child I carry
But your assault on me, caused me to miscarry

I can’t ever forgive you, for what you’ve done
Because of the violence, we lost our daughter or son

I received the following comment against another post on http://www.the-laststraw.com and wanted to share it with you here. The following comment was left on 2010/09/02 at 2:42 pm:

I was in an abusive relationship for 3 years and he abused me in all aspects. I found the will the leave him when he attempted to hit me while I was 3 months pregnant with our son. At that moment, I couldn’t leave for myself, but I could leave for my baby and I was gone the next week. It’s been a difficult journey because I still see this man and speak to him because of the child we share. He has continued to be verbally, emotionally and once even physically abusive to me in front of our son. We go to court at the end of the month and I’m praying the court will see the kind of man he is and will help me in protecting myself and my son. I wrote the following poem depicting my journey and my realization. I could only be his victim as long as I allowed myself to be and I refuse to be his victim. I hope you all enjoy this poem:

-NO MORE- By Ashley P.
A life that has for so long been controlled by manipulation and fear, So many times left broken and in tears.
Broken bones and bruises followed by promises allowed to heal, Names and accusations, confusion at the appeal.
Was it really appeal, or just a distorted view?
A victim of the lies, a victim of “I don’t know what to do”.
Attempts to do what’s right, attempts to inspire change,
Feelings of defeat when things remained the same.
A will to be happy, a will to stand fear in the face,
Determination to finally escape this dreadful place.
Emergence out of darkness, finally able to see the light,
Finally the courage to stand up and fight the fight.
No more being afraid, no more running away,
No more looking back and living like yesterday.
No! no more being afraid, not one more excuse,
No longer a victim, but a survivor of abuse.

The following post was left on http://www.the-laststraw.com

I am survivor. I have been out of the relationship since June 2010. I was hospitalized for the most recent incident in June with a fractured lumbar spine and multiple contusions to my face/head. Two black eyes, both lips fat, broken nose and other numerous bruises over my body. If I didn’t hide in the woods he would have killed me. He is in jail and the trial is starting September 30th. I saw the evidence pictures for the first time 3 days ago. When I saw the pictures of what he had done to me, it became real. Up until then it all seemed like a dream. The court is saying that this is one of the most heinous crimes against another person they have seen in a very long time. As hard as it was to see the pictures, they gave me a sense of empowerment. I do not want to be labeled as a victim, I want to be labeled as a survivor. I am thinking of starting my own blog to share my story and to inform people of the court process & things like that. I am ready to share my story with the world.

” I will no longer hide these wounds of mine. I will bear them gracefully. They tell a resurrection story.”

Ntozake Shange, “sorry”

one thing i don’t need
is any more apologies
i got sorry greeting me at my front door
you can keep yrs
i don’t know what to do wit em
they don’t open doors
or bring the sun back
they don’t make me happy
or get a morning paper
didn’t nobody stop using my tears to wash cars
cuz a sorry

i am simply tired
of collection
i didn’t know
i was so important to you
i’m gonna haveta throw some away
i cant get to the clothes in my closet
for alla the sorries
i’m gonna tack a sign to my door
leave a message by the phone
‘if you called to say yr sorry
call somebody else
i dont use em anymore’
i let sorry/ didnt meanta/ & how cd i know abt that
take a walk down a dark & musty street in brooklyn
i’m gonna do exactly what i want to
& i wont be sorry for none of it
letta sorry soothe yr soul/ i’m gonna soothe mine

you were always inconsistent
doin somethin & then bein sorry
beatin my heart to death
talkin bout you sorry
i will not call
i’m not goin to be nice
i will raise my voice
& scream & holler
& break things
& race the engine
& tell all yr secrets bout yrself to yr face
& i will list in detail everyone of my wonderful lovers
& their ways
i will play oliver lake
& i wont be sorry for none of it

i loved you on purpose
i was open on purpose
i still crave vulnerability
& close talk
& i’m not even sorry
bout you bein sorry
you can carry all the guilt
& grime ya wanna
just don’t give it to me
i cant use another sorry
next time
you should admit
you’re mean/ low-down/ triflin/ & no count straight out
stead a being sorry all a the time
enjoy being yourself.

” Do you not know you are God’s temple and that God’s spirit dwells in you? If any one destroys God’s temple, God will destroy him. For God’s temple is holy, and that temple you are”. ( 1 Cor. 3: 16-17)

This was left on http://www.the-laststraw.com and it fits for this site.

reader wrote: i wrote this 27 years ago

tiny screams-shattered silence
small moans-never heard
scars too big-tiny lives battered
tiny lips, bloody-utter not a word
a lie covers a bruise
sad eyes-look away
i’ll not tell-not ever
the way that i’ve been “used”
secret pain-inside, no way out
dark and dreary in here
no use in crying-don’t pout
cause theres no way out
by asa

I went to the police today
My life I could not withstand
The officer questioned, “About my problem
Tell us about your abusive husband
I have to follow his rules
And he refuses to ever unbend
He handles all our entire money
Not a penny I can spend
He says I do things wrong
He never apologies he’s always right
I am never allowed to go
Without permission or out of site
He monitors all my phone calls
He will even dial the phone
Not a moment of my life
Am I allowed to be alone?
I’m timed going to the store
I’m punished in many different ways
For every minute I’m late
My family I can’t see for days
I am not allowed any friends
I’m not even allowed to work
He has control of my life
My husband has become a jerk
This control, never having a choice
Life can be different I believe
Can’t take this abuse no longer
Please stop him help me leave
Does he push you, shove you?
Make you fear for your life?
If NO, then what do you?
Expect ma’am you are his wife
Are there bruises on your body?
Has he given you a black eye?
“No, he has never hit me.”
“Yet, you say there’s abuse, why?”
Walking away shaken and defeated
Yet knowing there’s no use
Just because there’s no bruises
Doesn’t mean it’s not abuse.

Printed with permission from author Angela Hutcherson-Jenkins

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