A piece of wood drifts close enough
for her to see it had a message carved:
‘For whatever ails, the water will fix.’
She read, then watched it mysteriously
split in two and sink.

Sounds of metal cups and plates
he’d thrown at her still rang, tinny in her ears.
One had caught her head, she could feel
a vivid bump and little nick it left along
with all the older scars
His throwing things always the tip off
which preludes the full on assault
to follow
She’d even tinted her skin to hide each bruise
but, enough was enough
she knew now what she had to do.

She dipped her toes into the water
which was surprisingly warm
and soon she was wading deeper
Gentle ripples were now waves
but here, nothing insidious existed
and, her limbs didn’t hurt anymore

As soon as she got back to the shore
whatever it took, she was leaving.


© Daydreamertoo           *All rights reserved

Strange where the wordle words take us each week.  This was where they led me. I hate any type of abuse. Was going to leave it as her just being in the water and let our own minds decide on her fate but, I do like a happy ending …lol

Shared with The Sunday Whirl #70

Author: Daydreamer

I live on a beautiful island in Atlantic Canada.

26 thoughts on “Enough”

  1. Well, you had me too.I was sure she was going to end it all. But then the healing waters helped to firm her resolve. This isn’t always the case and it’s hard for women to walk away from such violence and control. A creative use of the wordle too.

  2. Ah, the powers of water… healing and transporting to other states of being. Dreamer, you float my boat… figuratively speaking!

  3. I like a happy ending too, glad your heroine resolved to leave once she got out of the water, not stay in the water or the relationship. Wordls do take us to different places, one of the things I love about them.

  4. For me, it took a cop sitting across from me at my kitchen table, softly and gently asking, “Elizabeth, do you know that no man, not your father, brother, your son or husband, has the right to do this to you?” Believe it or not, I didn’t know that until that moment.

    Personally, I find the greatest significance in your poem to be the image of the wood splitting in two after delivering its message. Each individual is distinct and different. It takes whatever it takes and no one can know just what that might be.

    It’s been well over twenty years, but your poem made me stop, allow myself to breathe in my own experience and then release it. Thank you,


  5. Bren, I like the happy ending also. Your use of the words brings to mind a very vivid picture. Nicely done.


  6. Beautiful! I was expecting suicide, and was pleased to be surprised at the end. This is a lovely exploration….it moves slow and gentle like waves….

  7. No, I don’t have a poem, but I decided to come around because I miss reading and visiting.
    I think you were successful with both possible ends. You give this a happy ending, but it’s not concrete. She hasn’t come back, yet. I do like the way the poem carries us into both scenes, the present and the just past. Each scene has its own mood and tone which allows the distinct separation. I forgot about the wordle words.

  8. Such a painful life indeed, but glad she is going to push through and rid the abuse out of her life, like happy endings better too.

  9. I wondered if she was coming back..and I am so glad she did..almost like the water offered renewal and resolve..the ‘right’ way to say enough and to let those marks fade..Jae

  10. Just enough. Suicide is always too much. This has the suspense that drives me to read faster to find the end, and the words that slow me down because I am privileged to hear her thoughts. The driftwood sinks–lovely foreshadowing leading driving toward your ironic end. The thrown metals still ring and the bump and nick still hurt as the last straws in a lifetime of covering for him. What will she do? Then your masterful ending. I once directed a play called Crimes of the Heart–I think Its a film too–where a women who tried to kill her husband says, “I intended to kill myself, but then I realized that I wanted to live.” Mystery still remains at the end of your poem.

  11. I really like this.

    Such a horrible life for her, but I’m glad she has a plan.

  12. Water can have such healing and soothing powers. I like that it comforted and calmed her so she could make the decision to leave.

  13. The message on the driftwood somehow whispers to my own soul: “Whatever ails, the water will fix.” Inviting and soothing—and filled with the promise of hope.

    One More Whirl

  14. I have known a few women (though I suppose the roles could be reversed, who have been in and were able to leave abusive situations. Happy endings offer hope. Similar I think to that Julia Robert’s movie where she used the water to escape – Though I like your shorter verse because it doesn’t show all the actual terror. And I like the mystical message in the driftwood. One could say she projected the thought – but I think we would like to believe that there is a higher power stepping up occasionally to protect the innocent.

    Thanks for your early morning visit, and for not pointing out the spelling error, which has since been fixed. I am always intrigued by what lines become favorites. I’m not particularly a morning person. 🙂

  15. Good use of the wordle words, Bren. I enjoyed the healing / enlightening quality of this water; and the fact that it gave her understandiing and strength to leave! Loved the ending with the woman so determined!!

  16. i like the waves of feeling in this…you start calm and end there with the sadness only life can bring in the middle…ugh….i am glad she has a place to go to for serentiy…and has made a decision for herself…

  17. I’m glad you stepped away from the negation. ( you might, some day in rewrite, use that first stanza to presage that)
    I like the metal plates etc ringing doubly, externally and in her head. Nice write.

  18. Yes, I feel the hesitation about whether she was going to move further into the ever embrace of that warm water where no more harm awaits – yet the hesitation became a vibrant part of the poem and her empowered return a triumph! 🙂 (btw lovely accompanying photo)

  19. Good for her.
    It takes a lot to leave. I can’t say what it is as I haven’t experienced it myself but I’ve had a friend who left an abusive marriage. I saw how hard it was for her and I know that she had struggled for years to make things work, and had a long time thinking about the effects on her kids and such, before she finally decided that it was time to end it.

    On another note, I hate men who throw things when they get mad. It’s like encountering some oversized manchild that is simply too much to tolerate.

    I like the water element you have there, a metaphor for transformation that is gentle and healing and lends strength, the emergence seems to signify birth of a stronger spirit as well. Awesome to read.

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