If these walls could talk, they would have so much to say.
They would tell a story which we wouldn’t believe because
things like that don’t happen in our neighborhood, this
is a good neighborhood. A story we wouldn’t believe to
be true because things like that only happen on TV, only
to people we don’t know, the people we know don’t
live these stories.
If these walls could talk, they wouldn’t talk. They would scream.
The walls would scream but you didn’t and you still aren’t.
Don’t let anyone hear what’s happening, don’t seek for help
because no one will believe you and it could only get worse if the
cops take him away because he will return and then seconds
will be a matter of life and death. If you seek help he will place
his hands around your neck and your daughter’s neck and her
daughter’s neck and he will suffocate a generation of women but
he will suffocate it even if you scream so why are you still
holding your breath?
If these walls could talk, they wouldn’t talk. They would cry.
Well that’s the thing you have in common with the walls hiding your
misery. You cry. You cry over your daughters fragile life as you put
her to sleep, you cry hugging your son hoping he will never have the
courage to stand up to him and end up killed, you cry under the shower
so no one would hear. You cry when you fall down the stairs and you
laugh while you tell your friends that you fell down the stairs because
things like that happen behind crying walls. No one will notice your shame.
If these walls could talk, they wouldn’t talk. They would bleed.
And you too bleed every time you realize you’re living oppressed by
that filthy beast. Why are you holding your tears and hiding your
wounds? Show them to the world because if you don’t that sad
destiny will be your daughter’s destiny because she will mistake
violence for love. If you don’t teach her she has the right to live
and breathe and fight she might never learn it herself
and she just might end up hiding her bruises as well.
Who will talk first – the walls or the women?