Shattered Glass Life After Abuse

A short poem reflecting on how we must lose something often if we want to gain. If we hold onto everything, we can grasp what is newly being placed into our hands or lives. Step by step, door by door, creak by creak, hear the floor. Window pain, Stops the beak Lying still, Not a peep. Pull my leg, Spoke a Word Raised my hair and felt, not heard. Make the sign, Of the cross Bless my soul, Gain from loss. I must die, To receive, No more blind, You believe.

How are you, dear People ask. They only see a Cold clay mask. Staring, peering, At the face. Dredging opens A hiding place. Scooping, dragging The riverbed. Repeating theme is Always read. Degree and value Mental states. Eyes are windows that negate. Linking be verbs Stay the same. She prefers her Maiden name. Doubting, query Certainty. Fine-grained earth layers Reality. Research answers Is the quest. Will she ever Pass the test?

Am I in a dream? It was so easy. I spoke, in final hope, Marveled, he heard me. What do you need? Suicide keeps coming. It wants me to go. It lurks at my soul. Tears pour continually, The faucet has a stream, The pressure's released, I get a reprieve. I cry for help. I cry for hope. Will this ever stop? Please help me cope. (photo credit: III by th0rvaldsen on deviantArt)

"Committed Suicide" Is how the death’s explained. Does suicide kill? Or should another be named? Where does it start? When death is what you see. Who is to be blamed? Who hung the crooked frame? Suicide results But not the real cause. Depression murders more Yet, no one knows her lore. It was this, it was that. He did, she did, they said. Where is the family? An unseen mystery. Looking for help, They lived invisible. There, but a shadow, An empty French chateau. Intoxicating drink, The thought of being free, Perverted justice, Innocence takes the fall. See her perishing, Remember her no more. Advancing in the ranks She never voiced complaints. Depression hides in smiles Worn upon the face Medicine for the soul Too thin, it left no trace. Depression kills. A sickness of the soul Continually, breaking down, A castle with no sound. The afflictions build The wounds scarless to view Distinctly took residence. Yet, selfishness ma...

It has been about a year since I have posted. (Whoa, no, I checked. It has been two years.) My parents died -- the only ones I ever had:  one allowed me to be horribly abused, and the other inflicted the torture. Then, a year after their death, I have been working full-time (amazingly) and have not had time to write. I am currently, finally, unemployed and doing a lot of reflecting. My work contract ended. I was very glad -- both that I was able to fulfill it and that it was over. I am mentally to the point that I can function in the world--society--and hold down a job. I suppose this is a good thing--though, I push myself to do it. I have considered that it might be an alter--a compartmental part of myself--that can function highly that has emerged. I say this because when I had a week off of work I rested. Then, when I had to return to work I began to freak out, becoming very suicidal in thought. I so badly did not want to return. However, I literally forced myself to do...