Song Song

My voice was silent though I longed to scream
Scared of what would happen if I just stood ground
instead I hid in a hole inside my heart
I tried not to drown

I believed a strike was the same as love
so desperate for a feeling I had known as a child
pride prevents a cry for help
unwittingly I chose exile

Promises told were no more important than the vows
Neither one was sacred and broken with no thought
Sweet words can't hide bruise
on a face that seconds before held no knot

It took one blow
in front of those I'd protect
to galvanize me
to find my self respect
to step away from what
I feared the most...
to be alone....

Amazing to me
as I glance at my reflection
that though the eyes are older
and my attitude bolder
I sometimes still hide that broken girl

Shame on me
for not realizing the gift I am
I am beautiful
I am capable
A Mother,
A Sister,
A Friend,
I am my song

Artist's Note: I really enjoyed creating this portrait because it captures a moment in creativity. This photo was chosen so that she would remain anonymous, yet portrays personal aspects of her lifestyle and recovery mechanism: music. Writing about domestic violence experiences is a difficult process but an important one in recovery and thinking about what message for people to learn from. In this case, Song describes some revealing points about self esteem that all of us can relate to.