It’s Not Love

Today, I want to speak a little about domestic violence. The UK’s UN Women committee are raising awareness of violence towards women and girls with a drawaline campaign. This campaign aims to draw a line under all violence to women and girls . Here is a link to the page, should you wish to see more details: Drawaline Campaign

Domestic violence is a subject that’s very close to my heart. Not only physical violence, but sexual and verbal also. Violence against women and children (and, increasingly, domestic violence toward men). I read this frightening statistic today: 1 in 4 women in the UK (and up to 70% of women in some places) have experienced sexual or physical violence. 2 women are murdered in the UK every week by their intimate partners. That’s shocking!

I’m not personally involved with the drawaline campaign, as I only read about it this morning. But I am involved in spreading this message whenever possible. Here is a poem I wrote a couple of years ago about my own experiences . . .

It’s Not Love

When you’re lying in bed,
hardly
daring
to b r e a t h e,
praying the sheets will
hide
your body,
you dread the inevitable
game—
the one you don’t want to play—
and the
s t e n c h
of brandy
smothers your senses:
that’s not love

When his words
hurtle
toward you with
venom and force,
you know you’re
disgusting
because why would he lie?
Still you long for
his approval,
for his public
ridicule
to  s

t

o

p

even though you know you deserve it,
and you’ll never be good enough:
that’s not love

When you’re
slammed
in a corner,
rough hands squeeze your neck,
you plead for his
m e r c y,
but he spits in your face,
your life’s lived on eggshells,
his fist a constant threat,
he hates you, he loves you,
it’s all your own fault:
that’s not love.
It’s not love.