Almost four years before it’s believed she was murdered at the hands of her father, Katrina Miles penned a haunting poem about domestic violence.
The 35-year-old Western Australian mum, along with her four children Taye, 13, Rylan, 12, Ayre, 10, and Kayden, eight, were shot dead in their beds on Friday morning. It’s suspected Peter Miles, 61, was the gunman, who then shot his wife Cynda before turning the gun on himself at their Margaret River property in an act of family violence.
The resurfaced poem, titled ‘I am battered not broken’, was first released by domestic violence campaign group Red Heart and shared on Facebook by Cynda in October 2014.
It speaks of "open handed fists" and verbal abuse with phrases typical of a violent partner, such as "No one would want you", "worthless" and "bitch".
"The shrieks of my children, the echo of my shouts, the thump of my dignity slammed against a wall, the odour of stale beer has a name called fear," one part reads.
It's not clear whether the poem is fictional or based on Katrina's lived experiences. However, in it the narrator asks "how can I be five places at once?" and references "my only daughter" and "three sons".
"I look in the young eyes that still love me. I ask myself, so ashamed, 'How can my children still love me?' I stayed so long, so long."
In a statement to media, Katrina's ex-partner and the father of their children, Aaron Cockman, said that he had been "cut off" from his kids for six months and blamed Peter and Cynda Miles for that.
You can read the full poem here:
I’m battered not broken
By Katrina Miles
I stare into the depths of my worries
The crease between the frown
The hollowness of my cheeks is an echo
My stomach beats to the litany of my hurts
I stare and stare and stare
Hoping for salvation
Hoping hoping hoping
All peace is lost, fragmented, worn
I glare myself into submission
The shrieks of my children
The echo of my shouts
The thump of my dignity slammed against a wall
The odour of stale beer has a name called fear
The creak of a door
The sound of a petrol ute
Stiffens our shoulders, hurtles our spines uptight
Paste those fake smiles, quick hurry quick hurry quick hurry
Shh shh child
Please Please Please be good
Be calm, be still
Make it easy,
Oh the shame
Make it easy
How can I be five places at once
How can I save my family from open handed fists, from cruel, persistent words
Obey, Obey, Obey, Obey
How I hate that world, that word
Obey Obey Obey obey
How can I break free
There is no freedom for me
I stare, I stare, I stare
I fear I am lost.
But my children my children my children
My children, my children, my children
They are not lost
They are not lost!
And so nor am me
I shout, I shout, I shout
No No No No
I leave, I come, I leave, I come
I have left ....
In my head I am there
Here I am suspended
Save my children, save, save, save them
In my head I am there
The walls echo with the thump of my body
The fists in the doors
The creak of a beer bottle being opened
The shame behind our doors.
I look in the young eyes that still love me
I ask myself, so ashamed
How can my children still love me
I stayed so long, so long
I am battered
My cells echo with his words
'No one would want you', 'worthless', 'nutcase', 'problem', 'your the problem', 'your fault', 'bad mother', 'look at your family history', 'I love you', 'bitch' .....
The agony is a death to my soul, pin pricks in my skin
I asked God to save me and he was there
I asked myself to save me and yet I could not
I look into my only daughter's eyes,
I look into my three son's and I can
I am battered, I am not broken
I am strong, I am fragile
I am bruised so deep I ache
I ache I ache I ache
I am battered, I am not broken
Katrina c. Cockman 22nd October 2014
If you would like support or information regarding suicide prevention you can always call Lifeline on 13 11 14 or the Suicide Call Back Service 1300 659 467.
If you or someone you know is impacted by sexual assault, domestic or family violence, call 1800RESPECT on 1800 737 732 or visit 1800RESPECT.org.au. In an emergency, call 000.