Tuesday, September 22, 2009

silent

When I first saw her face I was silent, I said nothing, didn’t acknowledge it or the pain that was growing in my chest every second I saw that ugly bruise on her face. I didn’t say anything because I wanted to save her from having to come up with another lie or excuse, because we all know what happened. So what would the purpose be of making her lie about something we all know the truth about. I said nothing, because there is nothing left to be said that hasn’t already been said. We’ve said it, all of us. We’ve told her she doesn’t deserve to be beaten like this. We’ve told her how wonderful and beautiful she is, but it doesn’t matter to her because every man in her life has hit her and abused her.

So I said nothing, swallowed the bile that was rising smiled, called her by he nickname and watched her walk out the door back to him. I watch her sit proudly next to him as if half of her beautiful face wasn’t marred with bruises. As if she wasn’t hiding two knife cuts underneath her clothes. She told her daughter she fought for the first 2 rounds but not the last one, because she took a hard hit. As I hear her daughter re tell this story I can’t help but wonder if she’ll leave him before that final too hard hit comes. But, I’m silent, because I’m helpless in this situation. I can’t make her see the beauty we all see, I can’t make her realize he’s scum and isn’t worthy of him. I can’t’ make her tell the truth to the police instead of lie to cover up for him. I can't make her see that if she doesn't leave him he'll kill her before AIDS will. So I’m silent and its killing me, watching him slowly kill her.

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“I remember how being young and black and gay and lonely felt. A lot of it was fine, feeling I had the truth and the light and the key, but a lot of it was purely hell.” ~Audre Lorde