Teela Hart

Surviving Domestic Violence



Runs the water of perdition

Fills the porcelain walls of pain

Hands that move without permission

Decrepit talons of evil stroke

Visceral abhorrence did evoke

Compulsory arousal pulled the chain

Slaying me over and over again

Gripping the red, the vile, my fate

Showed no mercy did not abate

To the brink brought me near

Denying my confusion and my fear

Looking on you saw the hate

Before you dug the final grave

As I gripped the red and vile

The red securely sealed my fate







Author: Teela Hart

I am a mother, daughter, sister and domestic violence survivor.

14 thoughts on “Red

  1. I have nominated you for the Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award! 🙂 You are a beautiful person, and if this is one way of showing it, perfect!! 🙂 I love your poetry, and your honesty, and your strength – you are an inspiration to me, and any reader. Thank you for sharing your story.



  2. Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:


  3. Reblogged this on Healing From Complex Trauma & PTSD/CPTSD and commented:
    A very powerful poem. Thank you for sharing this. It takes great courage to put this into words and you have, so eloquently ❤ ❤


  4. I like this too. A lot of the symbolism words you used remind me of this song:

    “A Flood Strong Enough To Consume The House”

    Oh my offspring, oh fragile one: I lay on the altar.[i] When will my reaping end?[ii] You plunged your blade into the horizon to let it bleed out visceral hues of red for the last time. Such capacity for inhumanity! Taking in that we’ll never again begin — diverge to a static rot.

    And if you, oh Lord, reside upon this serene seafloor I’m compelled to implore: Did you sink, or did you simply abide in my deep?

    Out of nothing[iii] but something you came, and it’ll reap the sow of this tableau tonight: guards paradoxically living under lock and key.

    I must rescind my sentience, the nescience I extol. The antithesis of life, that sickness unto death;[iv] I must rescind my sentience: the sickness that I know. Faith is to fate, a pale horse to its rider.[v] It is we who are free, no longer captive to your coercive control. I must rescind my sentience: the sickness that I know.

    Father, I… I know our margins have widened, but could there be space for a fool to wander this earth; to ink our name in the blood of a martyr on your footstool?

    No boundaries or borders…”I should have been a pair of rugged claws scuttling across the floors of silent seas.”[vi] But first tell me: Did you see through my opacity?

    Innocent I do not assent to the unrelenting tide. There’s blood staining these waters, evaporated to circle the sky. Innocent I do not assent to the unrelenting tide. My blood’s staining your waters, evaporated to circle the sky. No, “I am a man of unclean lips.” I’ll welcome that coal to send away my sin.[vii]

    [i] Genesis 22:9. cf. Søren Kierkegaard, In Fear and Trembling

    [ii] David Belvin, Prison Epistle

    [iii] Ex Nihilo

    [iv] Søren Kierkegaard, The Sickness Unto Death

    [v] Revelation 6:8

    [vi] T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of Alfred J. Prufrock

    [vii] Isaiah 6:5


  5. So powerful Teela. I feel your pain. Love and comfort to you. Lorrie


  6. Amazing!


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