On a good day, there would be little blood
On a bad day, she could paint the room
Though that was a definite mistake
But then again, she was just a beginner
Not a virgin as such
She was never a virgin
The stomach was the best place to cut
It was hidden
Like the guilt
Eating away everyday
Birthdays were the worst
His special occasion
You didn’t bleed so much from the stomach
The pain was also stronger
But it was a nice sort of pain
It belonged to her
The years had passed
Seemed strange
One more special occasion
The grandkids had never met him
They watched as the curtain closed on him forever
She turned away
Unconsciously touching her stomach.
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Author:
Paul Bell (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 9th, 2026 05:44
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 8
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship, sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments3
This is such a quietly devastating piece. I really like how much it trusts the reader to connect the dots rather than spelling everything out. I read it as a poem about the long life after trauma and the way the body remembers, with the final image of her unconsciously touching her stomach saying more than a longer explanation ever could. The title, released, also feels wonderfully ambiguous; whether it's his release, hers, or perhaps neither completely. Surviving abuse entails having to live with the many challenges that accrue thereafter. Deeply moving and quite triggering as well. 🕊️🙏
The silent abuse all to well hidden, but happens more than we think, sadly.
A wonderful poem that touches the heart in its impossibilities that in metaphor become so real.
"Not a virgin as such
She was never a virgin"
What a great line Paul this says so much in so little. A guilt what is this guilt? Never explained it hangs heavy like the sword of Damocles. So many possible interpretations a fave
Yes, why should the kid have the guilt whilst the abuser carries on.
Paul, this left me sitting in silence for a while. It reminds me how the body can hold memories long after we've tried to move beyond them. A heartbreaking piece, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Some memories never shift I suppose, even in death.,
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