Metoo
We sit here
In our neat little rows,
Typing away,
Checking our phones.
You chatter away
About weekend plans
The holidays
And everything grand.
I try to join in
But the words disappear
I get choked at the thought
Of holiday cheer.
What you don’t see
When we look in the eye
Is the fear that tonight
Is the night I will die.
You don’t see the tears
Or the way that I jump
When I see a reflection
Or feel a slight bump.
You only know
That I’m checking my phone
Looking at screenshots
Of the rooms of my home.
Trying to see
Who lies in wait
What I will meet
When I pass through
That gate.
But I smile and keep silent
And silently say good-bye
To each and every one of you
As I try not to cry.
Knowing that tomorrow
This seat may be bare
Afraid to stay, Afraid to leave
Afraid that I still care.
So if you read this
And you wander
How you could not have known…
This is what domestic violence looks like
Silent, smiling, and alone.
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