A child on trial
Her torn innocence
On the stand
Ashamed and degraded
Her sins laid bare
For all to see
Being needy
Her greatest crime
Wanting to be loved
And she believed
His honeyed words
Even as violated her
A child on trial
Herself The Judge
The Jury, The Executioner
I’ve written about the past abusive relationship I was in from 15 to 17. How he trained me to be his play toy. A lesson I learned so well I had no sense of self worth outside of my body as an offering. One of the ways I process my shit is by writing. This is painful to read; trust me, it was painful to write.
Once, long ago
You told me that you loved me
Worshipped my body
With mouth and lash
Taught me that I existed
For others pleasures
Not my own
Though my body responded
Once, long ago
You claimed me as your own
Red marks on my body
Leather collar around my neck
You sold me
Watched as I was used
The ultimate symbol
Of your ownership
Once, long ago
I believed you
As you stripped me
Of clothing and will
Broken to
Your base desires
Years later
Still offering my body
Lost in a sea
Of misplaced desire
Seeking solace
For something that should never
Have been missing
How good it feels to be away from the edge of The Pit. Despite being mostly housebound due to inclement weather, I have been feeling pretty good. Maybe because I haven’t had to be social. Who knows. I’m enjoying it while it lasts. Can’t help but wonder, though, if this is a shift toward hypomania. the pdoc I saw didn’t see a bipolar diagnosis. Borderline Personality Disorder, Complex PTSD, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, and, finally, Persistent Depressive Disorder. She said there is a lot of overlap with BP and BPD, so sometimes it’s hard to get a clear diagnosis.
A new year always brings with it some reflection. I’m not the type to make new years resolutions,; my goals change as I grow and change. And I wanted to take the time to give thanks to the woman who led me through the darkness to the light. I wrote a poem for her, and gave it to her just before we broke for the holidays. She never said anything about it, so I should probably not be embarrassed by it. I thought I’d share it with you.
A ship with a broken compass
Tossed on the waves
Hither and yon
Sinking slowly
Trying to find my way
By a North Star
Lost in a sky
Of darkness and despair
The clouds thick
Ever present
Blotting out the light
Along came a guide
Showed me how to mend
That broken compass
To fight my way
Back to the light
Behind the clouds
The siren song
Is still loud at times
But I have a gift
A toolkit
Cobbled together
Patiently guided
With grace and skill
To heal the wounded
Children within
Feel the need in your soul
The dark longing
Deep within
Face to the sky
Hungering for truth
For peace
Aching for something lost
An empty vessel
Full of want
Full of desire
Craving something so deep
It will never be sated
The ebony darkness
Caresses you
A lover that calls to you
Seductive and false
The moonlight dances
On the scars on your skin
On your psyche
It knows all your secrets
Even the ones
You keep from yourself
The hunger
The void
The vast emptiness
Within you
The one that calls for comfort
In any shape
In any form
The one that keeps
You up at night
Cold sweat on the pillow
The Beast has no name
Knows only it is ravenous
Rapacious
And under the moon
Most powerful
The starlight
Tickles its hunger
For flesh
For the blade
For release
In any shape
By any means
The Void so deep
An abyss in your soul
Nothing fills it
Nothing sates it
No warmth
No heat
Endless longing
Meaningless sounds
Spew forth
Conveying
How voracious
The appetite is
For flesh
For blood
Anything to take the edge off
If only
For the moment
Numb
An emotional lockdown
Fearful
That once the walls crumble
There will be no relief
Sorrow
Runs deep
Permeates my very essence
If I allow myself to feel
The full depths
Would I ever recover
Fear of getting “better”
Of never getting “better”
I’m not sure I could bear
That this is the way
It will always be
Yearning
For a family that doesn’t exist
For what worth have i
If I’m rejected by those
Who share my blood
That nameless ache
Undefinable
Intangible
Pervasive
Both physically
And in my pysche
A part of me
Steadfast
True
Who am I?
It’s been a long time since I posted anything. Life has been dark and I have been in a state of broken disrepair, unable to write.
Tonight it appears the dam is cracking and I can write about the childhood that broke me.
IF ONLY
If my presence offends you
I can only beg forgiveness
And apologize for my sins
However slight
The pain
The tears
Never knowing
What might set you off
If only
If only I was quieter
If only
If only I was more docile
If only
If only I was the daughter you wanted
Not the one you received
Not wanted
Unplanned
A mistake
I don’t ever remember
Not knowing this
Shut up
I don’t want to hear it
You know why
Heartbroken
Alone in my room
Snot and tears
Mingling on the
Flowered bed spread
No succour
A pariah
Hours alone
Today you wonder why
I need so much
Time by myself
You trained me
Isolated me
Self reliant
To not need
To not feel
To not cry
A few weeks ago I came very close to drowning myself. The emotional pain was so overwhelming I was in the lake before I even realized it. I subsequently went home and self harmed. So my trauma therapist put me on a Contract for Survival. Basically I contracted with myself to in no harm my person.
My word is my bond. If you matter enough to me I to give you my word I will go to whatever lengths necessary to keep it. And therein lies the rub. The contract isn’t with her. It’s with me. And I don’t set my life at a pins fee. So where does that leave me. Stuck in a kind of limbo. And nights like tonight… Well… the struggle is real.
When the heart weeps
Yet no tears come
When words won’t come
And all that is left
Is an unnameable
Something
That begs release
Escape
A way out
From the too too much
That cannot be
Identified
How does one
Find release
From what one does not
Recognize
Except to let it out
In blood
And pain
Descent Rising 