To My Abuser
Shoak Alhussami, MA Student
Writer鈥檚 note:
This poem was largely inspired by the artistic and literary work of poet Andrea Alexon, especially her poem collection titled Broken Teapots. I use the theme of a gradually deteriorating teapot to reflect the nature of interpersonal violence that intensifies every step of the way, not all at once. The poem, however, ends with a more positive note highlighting the protagonist鈥檚 sense of agency and resilience.
Artwork for the UN Women interactive website, Violence Against Women: Facts Everyone Should Know
To My Abuser
Beautifully, calmly
Our story started.
No rages or storms
No yelling, pulling or breaking.
Our bed 鈥� safe
Our teapot 鈥� warm.
But there it was,
The first crack.
I saw it
With the knitted brows and raging eyes;
With your fists
Longing to dig into my flesh;
At the sound of your roars
deafening me.
I saw it
When I was called names,
ugly names
for not making your dinner 鈥�
the right dinner 鈥�
at the right time.
A crack and another:
The whole teapot was infected.
鈥淚t鈥檒l be OK,鈥� I lied to myself
Thinking the baby inside
would pacify the beast.
Alas! For the baby inside
became your weapon
to hurt more
to control,
monitor, and manipulate
my food and my body.
鈥淏ut why?鈥� I wondered,
鈥淐an鈥檛 he see I鈥檓 pregnant?鈥�
I didn鈥檛 understand THEN
My big belly, my weak body
Were too tempting for you,
Oh, I didn鈥檛.
But for my child
and me
For all the years
of pain and tears
I鈥檝e decided
To cry out and believe
There IS someone to hear.
I鈥檝e decided,
How I wish I hadn鈥檛;
Doctors, judges, police and law:
The system has already conspired
against us 鈥�
my child and I.
Yet, I鈥檒l continue the battle
Till YOU are tired
For I鈥檝e just begun
to train my wings,
to paint colourful my pale sky,
and plant flowers
in the grievances of my heart.