domestic violence Archives

Unmatched Dominance

Sheila HenryFebruary 29, 2020

Unmatched Dominance written by: Sheila Henry He left no visible marks no evidence to show a crime took place here yet a constant pounding to her t...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Ocean Restoration

Kelli J GavinDecember 4, 2019

Ocean Restoration written by: Kelli J Gavin @KelliJGavin The only hit I have ever welcomed was the slap of a wave First, my ankles and then my thigh...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

A Wondeful Childhood, a short story by Frank Geiger at Spillwords.com

A Wonderful Childhood

Frank GeigerOctober 10, 2019

A Wonderful Childhood written by: Frank Geiger Her name was Donna Weaver. His name was Trevor Bower. They first met at the Wawa where he worked, usual...

EnglishFeatured PostLiterature42 min read

The Dancer

Barbara AvonSeptember 15, 2019

The Dancer written by: Barbara Avon @barb_avon It was a night that belonged to the spirit world. The air was too frigid for Autumn. She climbed the...

EnglishLiterature3 min read

Dummy

Matthew Roy DaveySeptember 4, 2019

Dummy written by: Matthew Roy Davey They came up behind us on the path and yelled to get out of the way. Rick and I were quick enough but Ellio...

EnglishLiterature3 min read

Nobody’s Prize

blocatAugust 26, 2019

Nobody's Prize written by: Blocat ‘Mummy has been very naughty, Archie, she went with another man, and now she wants to take you away, Archie, you, ...

EnglishLiterature9 min read

The Intervention

Rich RurshellApril 18, 2019

The Intervention written by: Rich Rurshell Jenny got into bed like her mother had told her to do and pulled the covers tight over her head. Daddy wa...

EnglishLiterature10 min read

My Siblings’ Father

Judge BurdonSeptember 17, 2018

My Siblings' Father written by: Judge Burdon other children feared monsters under their bed i feared the one living under our roof. his hair was nim...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

I’ve Been There

Hayley BurwoodSeptember 4, 2018

I've Been There written by: Hayley Burwood @Hayleyburwood2 I've been a victim of abuse I've been tormented and used I've been tied up and raped ...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

ALIVE

Terry DaileyJune 29, 2018

ALIVE written by: Tery Dailey THAT HEART IS IN PIECES!! It arrived as a parcel with postage due... Each manila envelope is partially packed wi...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

No Joy-No Peace

Sona WilaeJune 4, 2018

No Joy-No Peace written by: Sona Wilae @sonawilae Riotous screams flee sore tonsils, inflamed impressions steely midnight hands clutch her sweat s...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

DOMESTIC ABUSE STORY IN POEM

Hayley BurwoodMay 25, 2018

DOMESTIC ABUSE STORY IN POEM written by: Hayley Burwood @Hayleyburwood2 Looking in the eyes of a tortured soul each day ...

EnglishPoetry9 min read

The Girl In My Class

Joy JoyancelMay 23, 2018

The Girl In My Class written by: Joy Joyancel @JoyJoyancel The girl in my class, the one with the fresh bruise on her left cheek, I struggled to r...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Traffic Light

Nicole ChengApril 10, 2018

Traffic Light written by: Nicole Cheng @NicoleCheng13 There is a red light in between us, It’s a sign that something is wrong. There is no heart, o...

EnglishPoetry3 min read

Gerardine White (mostly called Ger) grew up in wild open country of West Limerick, Ireland. Her country life is represented in her poems and has a strong bearing on her core values and education. She inherited the skill of poetic rhyme from both of her parents and her Grandad – who were all fine poets and storytellers. Her education took place mostly in South West Ireland and the rest of it is gleaned from travel, from life, and from being an avid reader of all kinds of books. In recent years she has returned to poetry writing. This past year seeing her published in four Anthologies from Clarendon House Publications. She sees herself as a Spiritual person, very connected with life in all forms. She is happily married for past 20 years and currently lives in Sussex, UK. She enjoys healthy pursuits of country walks with a nice cuppa tea and chat at the end.

Resurrection by Suzanne Craig-Whytock

On the day that Budgie died, I was young and very sad. He was a pretty bird, always singing in his cage. Sometimes we let him out to fly around, and on that day, the curtains were wide open and he slammed into the glass hard. Momma put him into a shoe box and I cried as we buried him in the back garden among the lilies. The next morning, very early, I snuck out of the house and dug him up with a garden trowel because I wanted to see him one more time. When I took the lid off the shoe box, his eyes were open and his wings fluttered ...