Two years ago the poem that follows arrived at Pulsar Poetry in Swindon, England. The journal's editor, David Pike, published the poem in the March 2006 edition under the heading Untitled.... A brief note attached to the poem indicated that its author was taking shelter in a refuge for women. There is always a way out the note concluded.
Poet-in-Residence admires the courage and fortitude of the anonymous poet. For her and the many other women all over the world in every culture and country who are forced into hiding this poem is now displayed here. P-i-R has taken the liberty of giving the poem its deserving title.
There is always a way out
His demons are destroying you
Taking out his pain on your body;
He is being tortured, now it's your turn.
You love him but can't take much more
You're sick of being the punch bag,
You're looking for a way out.
But it's the way that he kisses you
It's the way he holds you till you fall asleep
That makes you think this isn't so bad.
He is always sorry,
It was just an argument
Just a slap.
You gave up fighting too long ago to care
You're stuck in the give-take and you're the one giving,
You need to leave.
He's no good for you and you know it.
He won't ever change but you wish he would;
Leaving only proves the friends he made you give up right.
You know they're right.
He won't let you go without a fight
He's being tortured and now it's your turn.