Violence
domesticated Woman.
Pot Roast Sundays
tasted better
prepared
with broken ribs.
He loved her hair so much that he’d take greedy handfuls.
I still see her, slumped over the stove, cooking Sunday dinner,
bruised, and bleeding into boiling pots.
Split lips were all that wept in front of him. She saved her tears for me.
Violence
domesticated Woman.
Sex was best when
she begged for life
at noon
when the kids were awake and watching cartoons.
Only we weren’t paying attention to the television—
we were holding each other, and swearing to each other
that everything would be all right as long as we stuck together.
And we grew up,
perfectly groomed for marriage.
Violence
domesticated Woman.
© Kindra M. Austin
(image: Hitek)
Gut wrenching Kindra.
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❤
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Holy fuck. This is sharp, Kindra.
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Oh, my word. Thank you, Devika! ❤
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One of your best works I have read. This is brilliant Kindra.
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Oh, my gosh, Megha. Thank you so much. ❤
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You have killed it this time.The metaphor you have used is absolutely brilliant.
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I appreciate this so much. Violence against women is something I am passionate about standing up against. Much love to you, Megha. ❤
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The feeling is mutual.
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❤
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Reblogged this on and commented:
Today on Whisper and the Roar for Domestic Violence Week.
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A terrible condemnation of the male gender, Please accept my apologies we are not all control freaks!
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This made me feel the terror faced by the children. You can really make your words come alive.
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Thank you for reading me, and taking the time to express your thoughts. 😊❤
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