All of it is haunted! The “air”, space and “beings” . Brutally They haunt my mind All over again! I can still smell it; The sadness, tears and “blood sweat” . The unbearable pain Of a childhood crashed, The weakness within my bones, The agony of feeling helpless and hopeless Is all crystal clear like…… Continue reading Haunted
Ma’am Sir , Yes you did; You With those hands Broke me! With those hands U Turned my smile Into a broken pose U Turned my heart Into burning coals U Turned my memories Into a broken record U Turned my home Into a lost memory. Ma’am Sir, Your hands Made me fight Your hands…… Continue reading Hands that broke me!
“You gotta pose” They would demand “Smile big” “Say cheers” Imitating the sunlight; To camouflage the dark cloud That covered the “family” That family photograph I so resented! Flawless we appeared; Filthy we were indeed Fearless I posed; Fearful I was living Innocent our smiles made us; The innocence I never knew That pose That…… Continue reading Family photograph!
For the last couple of months y’all have been reading my posts on abuse. I have hoped that pouring out my heart would help encourage others towards healing as well as create awareness for those that can protect helpless children who continue to be vulnerable at the hands of molesters. There has been pain beneath…… Continue reading “Audacity of Her” – Poetry Release
Abuse is painful Like a leech it drains our blood Steals our courage and strength to speak up A heart knows to hold it The pain bleeding into our present At times staining those we love A mind knows to replay it Soiling our happy moments The deep scars will remind us too The monster’s…… Continue reading Hurts to remember!
Perhaps you have read snippets of me here and there on this blog and wondered why the many poems geared towards abuse. Well, I have lived through many seasons of pain and among them was childhood abuse. It left me broken and honestly saying I was a moving zombie would give you a crystal clear…… Continue reading Abuse recovery
When you say I matter For me; a “no body”… It’s to be somebody. When you wipe my tears With your own cloth… When you give me your hand You let me hold on… It’s to be somebody. I sit at your table You pass me a cup Your cup I dine at your table…… Continue reading To be somebody.