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.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
Gosh, K, that’s the saddest thing ever, and yet is so beautifully written.
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Thank you, Jeff. I tried to transport in just 144 words. To see their suffering but also their bravery.
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You accomplished both of these things marvelously, K. You are an amazing writer. 💙
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Thats so kind. Thank you, Jeff. Thanks for gifting me a big grin this morning 😊
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Hauntingly written with empathy. Glad there is a new day dawning.
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Thank you, Carol. There is bravery in remembering.
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Very powerful!
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Thanks, Worms.
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A wonderful response!!!!
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Thank you so much for reading this and the positive feedback.
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Very well written. A sad story with hope at the end of the tunnel.
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Thank you kindly, Dwight.
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You are welcome!
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This makes for painful reading, but so visceral, so real. Well done K.
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Thank you kindly, Ingrid. I wanted the reader to be there with these women for just a moment. Glad it seemed real to you.
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Poignant and well penned. Abuse in any form is such a terrible scourge.
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Thank you, Hobbo. I saw the winter tree line here yesterday right at sunset. So resolved despite the coming dark, and I thought of these women.
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Any abuse is awful, but particularly when it involves women or children.
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What’s worse is how often these abuses are not recognized or reported. Many times the victims don’t even know where to find help. I hope this changes.
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There were similar cases when I was a cop back in the seventies. Sadly, any progress we do make is painfully slow.
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Beautifully written, K. I felt I could participate as a tender witness to their stories also. And the inclusion of the quoted line concluded it wonderfully.
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Thank you kindly, Sunra. 😊
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Just too painful to contemplate.
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Women’s stories, women’s abuse, women’s sufferings are among the last to be considered of any importance. Well-written and poignant.
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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.
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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. ❤
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💜 This alchemic healing is what I hoped to capture, and now I have a name for it, too. Thank you for leading us to this topic through such a powerful quote.
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You are welcome. I’ve picked up a couple of Kimberly’s poetry books. Her poetry stirs something deep for sure.
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should read “can trigger the trauma memory/flashback”
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Will do. Thank you , Lisa.
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You’re very welcome.
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Beautifully written scene, K, of a worldwide story. The need to heal by telling their stories is a hopeful sign, and you make that clear with that brilliant closing sentence. Well done.
Pax,
Dora
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Thank you, Dora. That quote was so moving and that was the first line I penned. I appreciate your kind words.
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Very visceral and empathetic, as others have written above… well done, KH!
❤
David
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Thank you kindly, David. It was wonderful to pen this one.
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Well done, K. Pulls the reader in — heart and mind.
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Many thanks.
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Many you’re welcomes. 🙂
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Hard to read, these voices come alive in your prose. The line fits so perfectly into your hopeful last line.
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Yes, it is a scene we don’t usually see, the part where the broken try to put themselves back together. Thanks for reading this, and I’m glad the last line left you with a hopeful feeling.
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