Streets of Pain

I am a domestic abuse survivor.

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With blisters on my feet, I walked streets of pain.

No sense of direction or notice of time.

Dead-ends.

Locked gates.

I heard your voice in the distance calling my name.

My pace was slow.

I was weary.

No one stopped to query if I was ok.

My mind in disarray.

I am to blame.

It is I who must change.

Too young to know the rules of the game.

So I kept walking until I could walk no more.

Then I lay down on the road and let you goad me again.

Streets of pain,

where the victims have no name.

By Maggie Watson

From: United Kingdom

Website: https://poetrybymaggiewatson.uk

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