Recurring Nightmares
A Poem
Locking the door
behind me — for a
moment of respite.
Heavy boots
at a quickened pace.
Pounding — Banging
A raised voice
and shattering of another
piece of irreplaceable
china against the wall.
Doorknob rattling,
shaking, twisting
within its confines.
Eerie silence falls over
the scene. Not a word.
Nothing above a whisper
but fervent prayers for
an ending —
labored breathing
from the other side.
A hush. Exhale.
Deep, hesitant
breaths, to slow the
pounding of my heart
in my chest, in my ears.
Fists held so tight
releasing them hurts.
BANG. BOOM. CRASH.
No choice but to unlock the
door, as material begins to give
way to foot-shaped dents.
Eye to eye — Two inches apart.
I will not cry.
I will not stand down.
Assertive gaze — Do your worst.
Startling myself awake
in a damp and icy chill.
Unclenching my fists and
falling back into pillows.
Screaming silently into darkness.
Adrenaline leaving my body,
floating lightheaded, tingling.
I have to tell myself, even when
I don’t believe it — this too shall pass.
Authors Note: This piece was inspired by a nightmare from the past. Just because they are not physically harming you, does not mean you aren’t being abused. Let this serve as a reminder for survivors of any trauma, things can and will get better. For anyone affected by abuse and needing support, call 1–800–799–7233, or if you’re unable to speak safely, you can log onto the hotline.org
