Behind Closed Doors
Poems about what happened inside relationships when love, fear, addiction, violence, tenderness, and survival lived under the same roof.
-
A poem about being accused of playing games when the relationship had always been painfully real.
-
One person’s heartbreak barely interrupts the other’s night out, revealing how unevenly love can end.
-
A cruel sentence reduces an entire relationship to sex, forcing a woman to separate being wanted from being loved.
-
The wall keeps the mark even when memory tries to minimize it: something sharp crossed the room, and someone was standing there.
-
He always missed, but survival eventually stops treating bad aim as mercy and names the violence for what it was.
-
A woman looks back at everything she tried to keep alive and finally names the last thing she ever owed the person who kept hurting her.
-
A body learns to brace for impact even without touch when rage is close enough to feel on the skin.
-
After the relationship ran out of words, songs became the last language two people could still send across the distance.
-
A relationship can contain real love and still be destroying you; eventually safety has to matter more than the name you gave it.
-
The relationship ended, but the music survived—songs trapped in a time before they knew how the story would end.
