The Failed Escape

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 – For Your Consideration – Meta-Fours
“Use one of these 4 metaphors as a title or part of your poem:”

“A PITCHER OF BITTERNESS”

“A TASTE OF SACRIFICE”

“A HOUSE OF DELIGHT”

“BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS”

Eleanor had just about enough
of her boyfriend being rough.
It will never happen again, he’d
plead. I love you, you’re all I need.
But it happened again and again.
She would have to escape this den
of fear where anything could set
him off, leaving her bruised, his outlet.
Eleanor packed one day while he was at work,
squared her shoulders, every bone hurt.
She picked up her suitcase, a key turned in the lock
He threw her against the wall so hard, she went into shock.
Stumbling, she grabbed a kitchen knife from the stand
and that’s how they found her with blood on her hands.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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5 Responses to The Failed Escape

  1. BOOM! Powerful and necessary and full. And, as the DIxie Chicks expressed, “Earl was a missing person, no one missed” (very paraphrased) kinda thing. I love the ending. As I know from the mountain up above treeline late in October at 14k feet +. Nature’ll kill ya regardless of your developed experience level. And, good for her that he got her to finally find her Nature inside, and…

    “He threw her against the wall so hard, she went into shock.
    Stumbling, she grabbed a kitchen knife from the stand
    and that’s how they found her with blood on her hands.”

    Yup, her Nature’ll kill him. And, did. He asked for it. And, that’s on him to own that. Oh wait. Ha! HOORAY! He doesn’t have to anymore. Doesn’t have to burden this world with his psychological projection projective identity narcissistic sociopath bs anymore. Errr, … Neh, didn’t go too far there. Maybe I can’t sing the praises of this enough.

    “The Failed Escape” is a strength one. Great poem.

    Like

  2. Glad she got out. Glad she got herself out.

    Like

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