It’s really for all abused people (male - female) who have survived the devastation caused by someone who claimed to love you. In this poem the abuser is the male, it could easily be the female. Mom still communicates like an abused woman, she still wonders if all the horrible things he said about her are possibly true... that maybe she is as bad and at fault as he claims. I hope she will recover and the happy person she once was, will bloom again. The Abuser If he was the foundation you were the solid ground on which he stood. If he was the house you were the roof , the windows with storm shutters and gingerbread trim. Face it my dear through all his bull, you are the flower that bloomed in the middle of his shit.
Original art by Dove Cochrane. I have really great art posted here, and some crappy “learning experience “ art. (Just to show the creative waters don’t part every time we artists lay our bursh to canvas.) Along with my art, which I hope you will love, you’ll find a bunch of words written by me about art and my life experiences, poetry, and opinions. If you’re interested in a particular painting please email me and we can talk privately about price.