The Mother was hard pressed to remember her daughters name and often made remarks that claimed her offspring was less than human
Ummm…..... Another one I found in my pillow. / Not quite what I would write normally but if it was in the pillow it had to be written. / I can’t decide whether it is enlightening or depressing it seems to go to both ends of the spectrum very quickly. / But I do know I got the order right. / I don’t think it would be effective the other way round.
The artwork above was done by artist sticky flower after beng inspired by my piece of writing. A special thanks to aglaiab / for her assistance in helping me create the visual ‘bride’ which can be found in my journal and here Opening Night: / Friday 23rd May 2008 / 6pm to 8pm running until 5th June 2008 @ The Brunswick Street Gallery / 322 Brunswick st. Fitzroy 3065
Quest / artwork by Neil Johnson
Sexual abuse at an early age-check. / Suicidal thoughts during adolescence-check. / Nightmares filled with stories of rejection-check. / Dic…
I forgave you yesterday for hurtful words / today, I compromised for affection / I’ll forgive you tomorrow / and lose more faith in my belie…
Back in 1992, I wrote this quote in my journal, “Forgiveness is a courageous attempt to add steps to the ladder of the future. To forgive oneself is the doorway to heaven and the challenge of lives to come.” I cannot remember who the author was, but this quote is a part of my daily routine - / I forgive myself for what I’ve done yesterday, today and tomorrow! / In my counseling efforts the issue of forgiveness is always misconstrued, that in order to forgive you must embrace the person forgiven – this is NOT to say you need live with them, tolerate future abuse, or forget the lessons learned from this relationship. I guess that this particular belief is what sparked the inspiration for this writing at 2am this morning. / I am hopeful that someone struggling with Self-Esteem earns their presence and ability to hold themself in enough regard and strength NOT to compromise themself for Survival, Affection or Success! / Peace~ Imagine my surprise today 5/6/09, when my sweet sister DevineDay Dreams created created this beautiful artwork to accompany this poem…
I lie awake at night my eyes squeesed shut / I pretend to be asleep / I hear the yelling and the noise / I bow my head and weep I hear th…
This is thankfully not a personal experience but it is dedicated to all the abused children out there. You are loved, it is not your fault and somebody out there understands. Featured in: / Poetry and Beautiful Women April 09 / Core [C.O.R.E] May 09 / Freedom To Shine May 09 / Youth Enthusiasts June 09 / All Around Darkness August 09 / Creative Writing and Poetry August 09
We are the forgotten children / The aborted ones / Born dead / Wasn’t given a chance / A choice / A voice
you should get what i’m talking bout / and hope you like / i really like this one / and i hope it leaves a twinkle in your eye sincerely and dearly colorblind will be one of my performance peices and also will add a beat to it as well and make a video
NSFW
I did it with all my anger. I did it because I was too angry to die.
Please read this with an understanding that this is where I was I do not feel abused nor a victim in any way shape or form. I feel however you have to start where you are. I am where I am before you move on past the pain. I recommend for anyone looking for their inner child to do this work The person who helped me so much a couple years ago asked that I do a flow of whatever came to mind of my first meeting with my inner child. This inner child piece was written as is, I made very few changes to it. I did not edit this as I wrote it .. Raw and from my heart to my sweet little Lynne, whom I have grown to love more and more as each day passes on. / xox HERE IS THE SECOND PIECE I WROTE After a few months of discovering her
How am I supposed to feel about your fragile state, / when all you even did was tap, tap, tap / my fractured glass / with your diamond-head …
This is a poem about my current situation, as told from my stand-point to my almost Ex husband. about being crushed by an alcoholic sucking my soul for so long and almost forgetting what it was like to be alive, loved, respected, listened to, and unafraid to speak. To have, after the better part of 15 years of that, to have found a man, a real man, who actually wants to hear/read what I have to say, and love me for who i am not what they needed to covet or to make to feel small…and how wonderful and alive I feel because of him. :) Thank You!
Blowing through a vast crevasse – / from whirling tempest; / to calming balm on wounded skin; / to constant howl; / to sunlit kiss, onto war…
Ah. How to describe this? This is, quite simply, my past – or, the majority of it’s heaviness. So much. So many details. In short: my beautiful mother died at the age of 26, at the hands of a monster (AKA: the black-maker); tortured us beforehand for 2+ years on a daily basis (he was a dirty, dirty cop) which included molesting me for many years, years of which I have but 2 memories left after my brain erased my hard-drive to keep me from killing myself, most likely…the body knows what’s best. although, it would be nice, to have even one memory of my mother. she died when I was 7. She took her own life to escape him. / I have always pictured that little girl (me at 7, post her death) as sitting atop this pillar in a cave, bound and gagged, waiting for the adult me to come and rescue her…maybe someday I’ll be able to remember, and realease that girl of mine) / but for now, I take all of this as : A GIFT. and I mean that. ,my past is my gift, my present the reward. I harbor no ill-will against anyone. I forgave the man about 5 years back, in a dream actually, and my mother as well. / As I say, “I am the light-maker now”. So be it. I accept. With love and forgiveness in my heart, how could I do anything but shine for them?
“Come to the window… / I can see myself more clearly, / here…” A Valkyrie goddess – / gold and pink, / with the heart of a dying child; ...
A poem dedicated to my beautiful, Goddess of a mother who died tragically when she was young (26) , long story, and all she taught me of life through her tragic death and sacrifice. This is a poem written from her perspective in italics, her words to me…at least, those are the things she taught me… I love you, Mum. :)
“The cutting off of fortune to seek a better day / returns at will, the way it must, the way it came…” K.R _Hold me close; / brush so…
I wrote this one night back in January. I had been silently slipping into a heavy depression for years, and it was all coming to ahead at this point. / I just wanted someone to save me from my own growing darkness. / Turns out, it was me all along. Thanks to a special someone who reminded me that I was a beautiful creature deserving of love and light…I saved me. / :)
too long have i let silence into my heart / too long has it dwelt in its dark and narrow house
i think most people will be able to relate to this, each in their own and personal way. / too often we let silence into our hearts, when we should be letting our voice free. / too often we hide our own light, so that the light of others may shine brighter, not considering our own loss. we all have talents. we all have voices. / now we must take that step forward into the light, and show the world that we all have a voice. / 27 august 2009.
Entwined. Wrapped, I am / brilliantly orange; / red singed, pulsing love! / Watch it as it withers / under your tyranny. _Licking me col…
Written after years of suffering abuse of all kinds.
There has been a pileup of emails from artists, asking for ideas in dealing with abusive fathers, spouses, and other family members
Chinese Brush Paintings by Janis Zroback
My name is Tracy, / I am four. / My mommy punches me hard, / I fall to the floor.
A story of a little girl named Tracy who experiences child abuse until her mother finally kills her in a drunken rage. This poem was inspired by a little girl I knew and tutored in high school. Her story was similar to this ones. I tried to turn the mother in for child abuse but I was too late. If you know of someone who is abusing a child please speak up before it’s to late.
The flick / of a tongue / as it bursts / from its own ruminations / striking a bare wood bow / until it bre…
verbal abuse…and how it builds to break.
Can you see that? It’s right there at the heart / of my own understanding, / jagged and raised, / like a dusty gravel road / white like…
For Sweet Cassidy / and everyone of us who bare their scars to healing; themselves, and others. / love you Cassidy!
Ground floor, going up! / Fractured frame stumbling / up the tree of life. / Stature low, you crawl, / (there’s only one way) you say one …
My dream came true; the seeds took root; the lost rose at last. / This Diminished Hexaverse is dedicated to you. / You know who you are. :)
As I uncurl my cramped fingers, I release the little fangs I’ve been carrying through the seven hours and fifty three minutes of slumber.
His mother told our mom when they met, that Harry was insane.
This was written from memory with no consultation of my brothers and sister. Some events may have happened or been perceived differently than what I describe here. Each of us has our own story, and most of the chapters remain to be told. In reality though, most of this unhappy tale will be forgotten as we all look forward.
She used to look at me sullenly through a crack in the door. She was definitely not a ‘smiler.’ She was a stubborn and rebellious child w…
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