Poetry has been hugely healing for me as I’ve recovered from horrendous domestic and intimate partner violence. I wrote both the pieces about two different relationships with broken men who broke me. But in retrospect, they shared the same spirit and heart of passionate violence. I actually started writing poetry again to find hope and courage to leave the second man! I drew metaphors in the sand and said, no more accepting abuse as love. Since then, I’ve allowed self-love to take flight, and transitioning has literally saved my life in every way. I feel like I’ve mostly transformed from trauma surviving to trans thriving, despite all odds and obstacles, and these poems are evidence of just how far I’ve grown.
Not Your Fucking Rehab
My Kink is Karma
Written in 2025
Content warnings: domestic and intimate partner violence
We met at a kickboxing gym
Pumping fists with lust and adrenaline
He was 30 and I was just 20
We both thought the other was 25
He asked for my number
Already whipping me up in
A whirlwind of charm
Bipolar weather a torrent of
Relentless rain and violent winds
I confused the danger with chemistry
Surrendered to the cyclones
Forming rapidly by the hour
Together we were a deadly storm
Our sex life was exciting
Tantalizing with floggers
And pegging
And power struggles
But he fucked me over
Harder than he ever fucked me
He hit me in intimate moments
Without consent
Degraded me outside negotiations
Dragged my ego through the dirt
So his could shoot up
I was his personal punching bag
He pummeled me emotionally
Round after round
I paid the price for his past pain
Giving my parents a run for their money
I lost my strength and integrity
With each blow
My heart bruised like a plum
The internal damage lethal
But invisible to other eyes
So I was a silent sufferer within his walls
A prisoner during lockdown
He bottled his rage
Tightened the lid and shook
Until he exploded all over me
Screaming for hours
Until I was catatonic
On the couch with fear
Paralyzed in a puddle of
Childhood memories and tears
When he calmed
He would scoop me up
And hold me tight
Rationing the tenderness I craved
Until the next time…
At first, next week
Then, the next day
His kindness paired with
A right hook of cruelty
Knocked me out
With a roundhouse kick
Of self-righteousness
His roommate didn’t say a word
When he beat me to a pulp verbally
But then again
He was sharing space
With a fucking cop
He only complained
About the noise
And my pathetic attempts
To defend myself
Not about my attacker
Always flooded with adrenaline
Afraid but not in a sexy way
I didn’t feel so powerful in his eyes
He clenched the keys to my chastity
In a tight, controlling fist
Withheld respect in the other
I’m 26 now
5 years since
I last hid in the restroom from him
Since he banged on the door
Like he knocked all my walls down
But I’m still wounded from his destruction
Still rebuilding in the devastating wake
Of Hurricane Tommy
He loved me with passionate violence
I, a casualty of his care
That spun out of control
I led him through exercises of empathy
The bar so low that it was
A tavern in Hades
But he consistently failed the test
I’m no man’s fucking rehab
Just a workout regimen
Until they get tired
Physical therapy to build up
Their atrophied hearts
Like the neural pathways to mine
I no longer massage the feeling
Back into their frostbitten muscles
I’m still thawing my icy innards
Pulled out of a numb coma
My nerves scream for relief
But the pain of loving again is precious
I’m ready to go another round
And another
Until I find a worthy opponent
Someone who will go to therapy
Without a fight
And join forces during arguments
Us versus the problem
Not at each other’s throats
On a hairpin trigger
I still find myself drifting down
Dark memory alley
Bump into his aggressive voice
Still lurking around
I’ll choke his shadow out
Until I never hear another word
Til his harsh whispers fade with the wind
I yell back to drown out his violence
Until his tantrum twisters
Set me back down in Kansas
I have a feeling I’m not
In danger anymore
Still, he roars
In my ear in all his
Self-righteous, deafening Leo fury
But karma is going to
Have the last laugh
And kick his fucking ass
And ohhh, my kink is karma
Protection
Previously published by The Flying Ketchup Press
Written in 2021
Content warnings: graphic sexual language, sexual violence, and domestic abuse
We only had safe sex twice
Both times, you tore open the
Sheath that was separating us
Protecting me and apparently restricting
You and your pleasure
Both times, you told me that the latex
Was at fault, not you
Because you fuck
Too good
Too hard
And too long
Other men had done this to me before
And you knew that
But I’d known you for less than a week then
Both times, I believed the word of a stranger over
The dread that settled deep in my gut
That you-inflicted stomachache never dissipated
You prioritized your comfort and pleasure
Over my safety and peace of mind
And I should’ve realized then that
You were setting the theme
For the rest of our relationship
You used and discarded
Your hidden women
Like those dirty, busted condoms—
Split open and dripping
Like my wounded heart
Her face and name changed
But you didn’t
You haven’t
Really, you wanted to get your dick wet
And live out your porn-fueled fantasies
With a living sex doll
Meanwhile, I popped Plan B pills like they were candy
Cried and raged from the mood swings
And anxiously waited on the toilet
For one line to show up, not two
While you sat in your room and got blazed
No shame, because I’m a stoner too
But your favorite high has always been
Microdosing manipulation and power trips
You dissuaded me from birth control
Telling me just three months in
You wanted a family with me
Salivating over the thought of my belly
Swelling with your seed
Now I know how you trapped your ex-wife
Nothing and no one protected me
When you bent me over on my hands and knees
While you were on coke, weed, and booze
I was lucid and loud as hell
But no one at the party intervened
I didn’t see your face
But I imagine
Your gaze and mouth blown wide
With lust and greed
With each violent thrust and grunt of
“Ugh, I love you”
My insides and heart ached like they would rupture
That sure didn’t feel like love
Protection—order of protection
The only guard I have from
Your texts and calls harassing me
Your aggressive approach with a knife
Your lips curled back as you growled
Your eyes gleaming like the blade
You so often threatened your own life with
As I begged you to get help
Your words—I’ll never forget them:
“I’m trying to overstimulate you
So you’ll call the cops and
They’ll kill me.”
You enjoyed the fear in my face
Fucking sociopath
I spent that weekend night
Hiding behind a neighborhood fence
After I ran for my life out of our apartment
Like the time we were on shrooms and you
Convinced me a 5G tower was possessed
You ran toward me this time on foot
And I held my breath as you passed
You pleaded with me over text
Not to ruin your reputation
“You’re treating me like a killer,” you said.
“I’m afraid you will become one tonight,” I thought.
And when I laid limply on my side like a rag doll
After you convinced me to “come home”
I stared at the wall and cried quietly
So you wouldn’t hear
You again breathed down my neck
And had your fill of me before leaving me in
Tangled, stained sheets alone
I see now through the shuttered front door
Curtain-drawn windows
And hidden bunker walls that you
Have constructed to hide yourself in—
Both your protection and prison
Don’t you know that you shut me inside with you
Made me hunker down and hate
The rest of the world
As much as I’ve grown to hate you?
That now I avoid, isolate, and triple-check locks
Because of you?
You told me you loved me
But treated me like you hated me
I think you loved you and the self
You thought you saw mirrored in me
What a convincing mirage
You loved me with the worst intentions
And I couldn’t reach your ego even on my tip-toes
You swore to protect me at all costs
From the dangers and deception of the world
But you couldn’t even protect me from yourself
About the author: I’m Zoë Zack Dunning (ze/they/he), a queer, trans writer by nature and trade, born and based in Kansas City, Missouri. I’m primarily a creative composer, poetry being my forté and passion, but I’ve dabbled in journalism and written for various publications and blogs. I’ve been making a name for myself in the local trans and poetry community since 2021. I’m a three-time finalist in the Kansas City Poetry Slam, a competitor in a previous Grand Slam, and have been featured at Poetic Underground KC several times. I am published by On-the-High Literary Journal, The Flying Ketchup Press, ROAR Magazine, Third Person Perspective, Our Identidad Anthology, Bards Against Hunger, and more! I regularly pour myself out to perfect strangers at open mics. When I’m not, I’m writing poetry like solving a puzzle. Just one last line to crack the code!
Connect with Zoë Zack Dunning:
allmylinks.com/mellifluouswriting
Instagram and TikTok: @mellifluouswriting
Get in touch:
Writing: mellifluouswriting@gmail.com
Personal: lionessoflife@gmail.com