November 11, 2014

Abuse & the Cycle of Forgiveness. {Poetry}

child prayer

Never anticipated

The loss of comfort that this loss of self brings
The realizations
The lack of prayer before bedtime—the lack of security
The way it all seemed simple and easy as a child
And now… as an adult feeling every ripple of the choices that were made for me

No one sees the shower breakdowns
The tears—dropping like little bombs at the bottom of the tub
Never getting to explode
Just rolling down and falling into the drain
Mixing with the water and my lacking understanding

There’s no one to bear witness to the traffic meltdown
The over-the-bridge thoughts that escape
When I ponder the easiest choice

No one to hold my hand—say its ok you can do it
No one to stop me
No one to wipe the rage away
No soft calm to wrap around me when I fight God
No comprehension of the pain that seeps out of my pores and infests and thickens the air around me

The things I missed the most
Were innocence

The not-knowing—the thought that those people around me
Were just lovely

But the ugliness had to show its face
And now—it just refuses—fights and throws fits and falls to the ground flailing
Screaming it doesn’t want to go home
while I stand there staring—mesmerized—and wondering… why it acts this way

and I’d very much like a robot
a beautiful machine to woo me
make me feel great again
unleash my burdens on
something or a someone I can put all of this madness off on

but I just can’t bring myself to stuff it all in—pack all the hurt on
and then watch it suffer

id rather see it die
id rather give it all back—every ounce of it
and set it on fire
and watch with awe as the flames consume it
and the atmosphere sucks it up

but its so much stronger than that
stronger than the fire
stronger than my mind
stronger than my heart

and the residence
its taken up in my soul
feels permanent



I neglect you

I tear out your pages
I mangle our connection

I wonder sometimes if in my
desperate need
to not repeat history

Do I do it anyway
way back, deep in there

Would it be easier for me to deny
to look the brighter way
to recognize you in a hallmark card
to say… yes I feel this way about you
instead of not knowing

you break me down
and you don’t even know it
you neglect me
you tear out my pages
you mangle our connection
until you can’t even tell what it is

I don’t know you
any more than you know me

But we dance this dance
we play this game
that’s built up on a base of destruction and
awful awful memories

we can waltz our way out of it…
or play the perfect hand
one perfect time
both too ignorant to realize
that that perfection is getting crushed

and neither of us has ever been strong enough
to lift the weight of the rubble up long enough
so that perfection could breathe

It died and I dwell
I spend my hours pondering

phone calls
soft kisses
and tears

do I really truly care enough… do you?

to ever build up the strength
to mend these fucked up broken pieces
these shattered connections
these crumpled pages.


Gotta create

here where my demons are pouring out all around me
in so many colors
they’re swirling and one in the same

Do I… continue in my attempt to defeat them
or do I succumb to embracing them?
loving them?
accepting them?
forgiving them?

Because right now they’re having way too much fun tearing me up with myself
causing chaos in my brain
my permanent twitch
relieved only through
my attempted forgiveness
attempted forgiveness
attempted forgiveness


I have my hands in your guilt

I’m up to my arms in it

you’d never realize
cuz I hide it well
just like you hide the pain well

we’re rock aren’t we?
and rolling
forever rolling towards
what is better

you stay in my dreams
where we’re dancing
through fields and fields of daisies
happy… free…
uncontaminated with disgust

and you haunt my nightmares
where your screams pierce through me like arrows
where I feel I failed to protect you
where I feel the most hatred towards myself

I live my days a survivor
with a constant ringing in my ears
that reminds me every second
that I’m broken
an abused toy that started off innocent

I see that in you

that torn down spirit
still raging

just know my hands are there with you
covered in it
the pain and the humiliation
and every day I understand what a struggle
it is to live with the secret and not-so-secret
part of life that will forever plague us

just know that underneath all that shit
there is beauty
and if it takes a rage to conjure that
then rage the fuck on


I find a shedding of my own self-hatred

and a serious grasping of forgiveness
for things that weren’t even my fault
is my pathway
to salvation
and true happiness.

I’m not attempting to wipe away memories
I know what’s left inside me is there
as a way to build me up
A strengthening of the muscle that is
my brain
my heart
my soul

I know my compassion oozes from me
as a direct effect of my experiences

The good
The bad
The beautiful
and the disgusting

I am where I am
because it’s where I’m meant to be

I went through
what I went through
to get me through to here

I take nothing back
I wish for nothing less than I’ve received
and nothing more

I am content
with the story that’s been written on the pages of my life

I am content
with the poetry the universe blesses me with

I am grateful
for all of my experiences
for all of my abusers
for all of my lovers

for every creature that’s graced my path with their own

I know I come full circle
I know I complete my journey

I know how beautiful I am.

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Author: Sarah Frances Moran

Editor: Renée Picard

Photo: Nancy Big Crow at Flickr

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