Departure at Dawn.

She Ran.
She ran because she hurt.
The love for herself acquired through his flirt.
For years, a lifetime, he took the lead.
Every compliment he muttered, he’d cut a deeper wound to bleed.
Never did her role as wife give reason for this toxic vice.
Belittled a dreamers unwavering hope
a ring on her finger was his prison to hold.
Living up to his expectations, her chances slim to none.
Her heart was full, almost a whimsical one.
but he tore her down, and with never a doubt.
He avoided her bones, but with force broke her soul.
and all the while she was whispering, “Wait, was this his goal?”
But still one more chance, she’d allow, she’d bestow,
in hopes this time he’ll show her love he withholds.
But this chance is his last, and to escape his tethered grasp,
she’ll move like silence in the night,
quiet, swiftly, she’ll prepare for flight.
“Socks, toothbrush, bra. Move quickly.”
Kisses on foreheads, ever so gently.
She’ll pack her bags before he’s awoken.
She didn’t want this, it wasn’t chosen.
But you listen here before you smear her name around that town.
Her last resort was to leave that boy, that’s no flame for you to fan.
For her to stay, she’d die his slave. Her life deserved to be lived.
She ran because she was losing herself there, she was withering away…..
Same ole’ morning but NOT the same.
She’s awakened, her mind spinning in vain.
Up and adam, prep his outfit, cook breakfast, then help get dressed.
Behind the scenes she brushes her hair, he can’t see it a mess.
That’s one thing she can control, and she prides herself at best.
She keeps it styled, nice and tight, not a day, has she ever missed.
Now back to work, loop his belt through his jeans, socks in his shoes tucked tight
and despite the other 50 things for her to do, she better cook his eggs just right.
Now his time has come.
Now here is his chance.
“Please just one compliment.”
In her mind she pleads, “Do this for me, please just notice.”
And here it is, the Eleventh hour.
Sink or swim, will he ever.
And then he turns to her by surprise,
a glimmer of hope would fill her eyes,
and then firmly a grimace broke,
“Fix your hair. You look like a joke.”
…………….. the door closes behind him.
And right there where she stood she died.
The deepest cut and he didn’t even try.
See she was just a girl when she first let him in, to be honest, her life, it had barely began.
He saw what he liked, he claimed it as his, but that can’t be the case, it was only HERS to give.
It’s been 23 minutes since he walked out the door. Like a bomb ringing, she comes to on the floor.
Like a blow to the body without a touch. It hurt that bad because he meant that much.
37 minutes………….
She hasn’t moved an inch…
but the choice is up to her…
Gathering herself, the time has finally come.
One step…and she picks herself up.
Another and she can taste the freedom.
Now she’s running, reaching under the bed, she grabs her bags and lifts her head.
His voice now a million miles behind her, she hit the ground running, her feet stronger than thunder.
She’s running to a life, to a life she’ll build without him. Her sons will be present with forgiveness on behalf of it. She’s driving fast, running hard, there’s something to say for the woman she’s becoming. Depending on his praise, she won’t do it anymore. Windows down, pedal heavy to the floor.
This open highway paves her strength, that chapter is finally closed.
This woman driving into the sun, not worried for when he gets home.
She left a note for her teenage sons, one they’ll keep until she returns.
She pleads with them to keep her love in their hearts and in that home.
Her boys are safe with a dad they love, but who returns no love for her. She cannot give them the life they need,
so they’ll stay so she can go.
40 years has past since she’s seen him last. Her name sings a new song. This life she chose, she made her own, through her foes she was built up strong.
And now ya see, his scrutiny, she survived only maybe half whole.
But the chains he bound, the ones SHE cut down, gave wind to her sail and set ago.
And the promise she made to herself in defeat, still holds, wherever she flees. She’ll never fix her hair again. It will forever, from him fly free.
Photo from google

Published by Stephspoetryandsuch

Your girls gotta write that dark poetry ya'll🖤😜🖤

5 thoughts on “Departure at Dawn.

  1. Thanks for letting your heart write from this perspective. Sometimes the only way up is out, she had to go. So many women live out the thankless existence and chalk it up to self-sacrifice, but that’s not really living is it? Your words hurt to read, but they should, cause I relate on so many levels. Thanks again for sharing.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Freedom. Not easily accessed once familiarity has set in as fear holds one fast to the prow, regardless of the battering waves on one’s brow. That wasn’t meant to rhyme. *laughs*.

    A great escape.

    – Esme nodding and flying free upon the Cloud

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Wow how lovely and insightful. I very much agree. Thank you so much for reading sweet Esme!☁️ Fear will hold a person in an invisible prison cell. This particular rhyme holds a special place in my heart as it was a woman I was very very close to but has now passed on. I’ll always admire her strength and the wisdom she passed down to my sisters and I. A wonderful soul who finally said, I have to go. I’ve always loved her story ♥️

      Liked by 1 person

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