Jackbooted by Donna Jones

She wore her face on his jackbooted foot,

Kicked and stamped on.

She knew she was dirt.

The razor flash of his eyes told her so.

His spittle sprayed ‘slag’, ‘whore’,  ‘cunt’

Into the dark creases of her face, her ugly face.

She wore the bite mark on her hand

Like a chattel.

Could not divorce,

Could not pawn it to buy powdered baby milk.

She knew her place,

Saw it written in lipstick blood on the bathroom mirror.

Knew this pain was her fault.

The iron scorched his shirt.

His fist scorched her temple, tore into her.

Took her down into that crouched ball

That bounced off walls and door frames.

Bullied bruises tattooed her flesh.

Hidden behind her childrens’ eyes

Each re-run was a film they could not write about

In their school morning diaries.

Could not act out in playground chases,

But saved them for the streams of night time dreams,

For the anger that would lash out at others,

The tears that could not come,

The heroin that would dumb down,

The secret silence that hated her for staying.


I was a youth and community worker in Sheffield for 35 years working with ‘at risk’ young people.  I took early retirement in 2010 and then worked voluntarily supporting young women who had been sex trafficked.  Most of my poems look at the ‘underbelly of the world’ and can be very raw, and i give voice to those who are marginalized, mentally ill, damaged through abuse, violence and drugs etc.
I have self published 3 books
BLUE DEVILS  -about my mother’s mental illness.
RED RAW- poetry 2015
I perform spoken word poetry at festivals and especially on the ISLE OF WIGHT where i now live.
I am an artist and my website is   www.donnajonesmbe.weebly.com

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