**The Black Velvet Glove

The Black Velvet Glove

The hardest to bear isn't the slap or the shove,
It's the sting of the words, like a black velvet glove.

It tears at your soul and your heart cracks in two,
What you've become is not really you.

You know that you're good, and you know that you're kind,
But you feel like you're going out of your mind.

The look of disgust, the names and the sneers,
Has this really been going on all these years?

It started so small, just a fight - some name calling,
You couldn't see the black hole into which you were falling.

He took all your dignity, who you were, and your pride,
In your shame and your pain, all you could do was hide.

Hide the fact that the man who promised you love,
Took it back and replaced it with the black velvet glove.

"C"

I found this poem awhile ago, and have kept it in my files for many months.
When I first read it, I connected to it, and the writer, instantly.
It's like she had been living my life and reading my mind.
My old life.
My life with the one who hurled things at me almost as fast as the insults.
My life with the one who called me at work daily to yell at me for spending any amount of money.
My life with the one who dragged a little boy across a tile floor by his hair.
My life with the one who kept me pinned against the wall in a choke hold.
My life with the one who called the police and said I had attacked him.


Abuse is non-discriminatory.
It doesn't care what color, race, religion, age or socio-economic background you hail from.
It affects women, men and children.
This poem is a reminder to me of how far my son & I have come.
The obstacles I overcame to get away.
I was 1500 miles away from family, didn't have any friends, and had no place to go.
What I did have was a child to think of.
I made use of my my local Department of Children & Families.
They helped me get my life back, in many ways.

It's easy for one to stand back and say, "Just leave!".
But from one who has been in those shoes, it's not always easy.
People are sympathetic, but unwilling to "get involved".
I understand their position, and I respect it as well.
However, if you are willing, and able to help someone you suspect is being
abused, talk to them.
Let them know that they are not alone.
Let them know that they can call upon you if the need arises.
Sometimes, that's all it takes.

If you're reading this, and you see your life in that poem, leave me a comment or drop me an email.
I will do what I can, even if it's only listening.


**This post was written almost 4 years ago.
It was about my ex-husband and what he had done not only to me, but to my oldest son.
At the time I wrote it, my son & I had been away from the situation for almost 4 years.
It was, and IS an affirmation to me that no one needs to live that way.
You can get away and you can live again.
Yeah, I still have nightmares every so often, and my blood boils hotter than molten lava
when I hear of anyone being abused.
But now, it’s just something that happened to me.
It doesn’t define me.
Nor do I let it rule my life.
My regret comes in the form of not being able to protect my son from it.
For that, I doubt if I will ever forgive myself.

So, if I can educate even one person through my experience, then I will gladly re-tell the tale.
All of them.
I have no shame of the life I have lived, and very few regrets.

Good and bad, it has brought me to where I am today.
A rather fantastic place too I might add.
But that tale is for another day.

I know that this is another post in regards to Domestic Violence, and I apologize.
I promise, there will be a happy post about rediscovering myself, making a new start and finding a newfound appreciation for life.
Not to mention finding love again.
But for the moment, please bear with me.
As you can tell, it's a subject very close to my heart.
And since we are nearing the end of October, I just wanted to get this poem in again.
It bears the re-post.