Oh dear abuse
I’m writing you this letter to let you know that
Although I’ve never seen you,
I have seen your footprints.
Oh dear abuse.
How ugly are you?
Well I’M fine thanks for asking.
Classified into your types and subtypes I couldn’t care less.
You’re still brutal, my dear.

In the adults and children who are startled by every sudden noise,
I see the footprints of abuse.
In the women who hurry home out of fear,
There are footprints of abuse.
In the children who are deprived of food in the name of discipline…
Oh I see the footprints of abuse.
In the men who are denied seeing their own children,
Flip, flop, flip, flop…
Goes the sound of the footprints of abuse.

In the nightmares my fellow people wake up with
Cold sweats and eyes wide open.
These are the footprints of abuse.
Bright
Pupils dilated as if under the influence of tropicamide.
These are the footprints of abuse.
My fellow people can’t differentiate between
A good touch and a bad touch…
Another footprint of abuse.

Oh…How you did us so!
Those are your footprints, dear Abuse.
Some of my fellow humans have made eternal peace with you.
They’ve come to normalise you and even romanticise you.
But I see you leading them to their miserable
bloody
early
graves.

Unfulfilled dreams.
Bleeding hearts.
Trembling flesh.
Grey matter.
Footprints of abuse…
I see you.

Yours truly,
The one who knows you not.