Towards the Dawn

Battered women have a tenseness to them. Huddled in a circle at the monthly support meeting, our shoulders connect, stiff as treetops. Smiles appear unexpectedly, winter sunsets, bitter more than beautiful, but I come here every week to listen and to heal.

“That was over a decade ago,” the old wounds on my arm form a star when I speak. “Can’t watch the sky without remembering that belt buckle.”

“The clouds were thick that night, but it didn’t rain,” another woman shares. “I remember thinking even God’s too mad to cry.”

“I’m still regaining myself,” the next whispers, swaddled by the security of the other survivors.

“Night’s hardest. I hear a creak, shield my face.”

I dress in their stories, patterned and purple as the night, a swimmable distance now that I’ve learned to wade my way through the darkness towards a new dawn.


dVerse — Prosery Monday — Lost/Found/Lost Children

msjadeli is host tonight at the d’Verse Poet’s Pub. Our inspiration for 144 words of prose is a beautiful line from “When We Sing of Might,” by Kimberly Blaeser: I dress in their stories patterned and purple as night. Join us.

Artwork by Irene Lee. Be sure to view her amazing gallery.

40 Comments

  1. Ain Starlingsson, forestbathing hermit

    Frankly this is terrifying. I just do not know what I would do if I found out anyone in my family was being abused like this. I think immediately throw the man out, clothes and all, to the street. The belt buckle line was horrifying, but one must not avoid reading this, and understand that it is not some abstract thing. Well-written.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. msjadeli

    K, your prosery highlights profound details of abuse victims. One is that *anything*, a sight, a sound, a smell, a word, a tone, can trigger the trauma. Another is that trauma support groups can work alchemic healing. To sit together with others, to listen, to share, to feel safe, means the world. Your prosery resonated with me in many ways. Thank you for it. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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