Whiskey was
the medication
used to dull pain
When the bottle
didn't provide
answers
He shared
his agony
an attempt to
dissipate his
misery
Punishment for those
whose pain was not
the same as his
The spread of agony
simply resulted in
unseen scars
Whiskey Scars
The world
couldn't see
my sharing
the lie
Copyright (C) 2023 Penny WilsonTag: domestic abuse
Treasured Scars
My freedom is dear to me, paid for with anguish and a piece of my soul. My sanity, at times, precariously balanced on a knife edge. The scars I have are treasured things. They keep me safe.
Copyright (C) 2018 Penny Wilson
Bruises Left
Promises and gestures never erased the yesterdays passions never erased the bruises left on heart and soul Copyright (C) 2023 Penny Wilson All Rights Reserved #Name Your Number Challenge Click here for info and to join in!
Hope, help & tragedy in Faribault — Minnesota Prairie Roots
THIS IS A REBLOG FROM MY FRIEND AUDREY’S BLOG AT MINNESOTA PRAIRIE ROOTS. PLEASE VISIT HER WONDERFUL BLOG!
I photographed this woman’s shirt at a public event in Northfield. The message refers to struggles with mental illness. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo. IF YOU’VE FOLLOWED my writing long enough, you understand my dedication to increasing awareness on two important issues—domestic violence and mental health. This week, both made headlines in my community. I […]
Hope, help & tragedy in Faribault — Minnesota Prairie Roots
#NaPoWriMo-Day 28-Poison
You
cry a river
you lay
awake at night
you wonder
‘what if’
he was poison
but
but...
what if..
you plotted your
escape
and now
finally free
you long for him
crave him
miss him
you yearn for
the one person
you know
is your
demise
the years of
conditioning
are evident
remind yourself
you are strong
enough
you
are
enough
Copyright © 2021 Penny Wilson
#NaPoWriMo-Day 26-No Evidence
The red ink
spatters upon the page
like blood
The truth
should be seen
not hidden inside
like a cancer
There is no transcript
no evidence
no witnesses
The mental anguish
hidden from public view
Nothing tells the world
who you truly are
There is no one
to judge you
at least not
here on Earth
Let my words
speak
for those who cannot
Copyright © 2021 Penny Wilson
*This was inspired by my writing buddy and Dear Friend, Chuck over
at The Reluctant Poet. Thank you Chuck, for your kindness, encouragement
and most of all for your friendship.
Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay
Treasured Scars
I was never able to hold my breath long enough to avoid the stench of you. Your slurred, dribbling nonsense turned my stomach. It was a game you enjoyed. You would watch my face to see how long it took before I became repulsed.
In your eyes it was fun; harmless.
I would watch the anger wash over you as the booze took you away. You were body-snatched, replaced by a monster. The monster hated anyone in it’s path. But the hatred was for itself most of all. The hate engulfed all and rage was the only outlet.
Penny Wilson Writes 