i was a battered wife
until I became a prisoner.
which is of course,
the only way to tame a Shrew

the single unlovely, outspoken, prickly weed
in his perfect garden
of quiet, well behaved possessions

the prisoner, fortunately,
will never become what she is not
and the Shrew will finally, at long last
notice a spark of light in the darkness,
pull herself up by her roots,
and her hair,
charge headlong into the
blinding white light of freedom
and never look back.
not ever.

your circumstance is not your fate
it is a warning, not a curse.
run for your life
before you put down roots

(c) 2020 BGeiger

2 thoughts on “shrew

  1. Hi; I’m a friend of Julia’s & so honored that she shared your writing with me. I have a friend in Hawaii that was in an abusive marriage & almost didn’t make it out alive. She is recovered(or recovering) & yet het PTSD is a tangible part of her life.

    Thank you for sharing your vulnerability & rawness in your writing. This is an encouragement to publish. These need to be seen. With regards, Nancy B


    1. Hi Nancy, thank you for the kind words.
      I seem to be doing something that kicks me out… this is my third try. I hope you don’t get three responses. Keeping it simple, my email address is You are free to send it to your friend. I will always respond to another survivor.
      PTSD is hard, but so is leaving. She has half the battle won.
      best always,


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