Shattered Glass Life After Abuse

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)

Stop Don't Judge Me, You only see, Partially. photo credit - zeldabeast "innocence" DeviantArt Love God's eye view, He sees as few, Completely. Know I am seen, Naked and clean, Graciously. Love I must do Return to you Willingly. Hard Surrender Forgive, filter Lovingly. Grow All is used In grace, transfused. Healthily. Give Offering You A living sacrifice To my King.

I was experiencing a trauma trigger. Writing this poem centered me and calmed down my emotions. It is odd but it is what flowed. I do not apologize or analyze because it is real. Poetry coming from trauma is healing; don't look to critically; simple gaze upon like you would abstract art hanging upon a wall. _______________________________________________________ I sense I am coming unglued. Drip, drip, snip, snip Like a rag doll, stitches removed, Pecked away by a raven or crow. It's okay it doesn't know. Carelessly, unaware, It's a bird: it does not care. Hear the water hit the pan, Irritating is the sound, Slowly dripping to the ground. Tin, tapping, repeat, repeat. A dripping faucet, I have a leak. Sadness seeps out of my core. Superglue-- it holds no more. Glasses broken, my dress is tore. How many times did she survive the war? Battles her both day and night? Still she hangs on in the fight. Warrior, so others claim. ...

Handle it, I ask. But you find an excuse, You don't foresee the abuse. So I went, You stayed. Words spoken under breath, Drew me into another death. What I spoke, I regret. My response frustrated. Left painly irritated. Protect me, I asked. But you left me to walk Into the trap of my talk.

Window opened. It flew in. Pretended pretty, Helped to win. Less than one week, Turns to frost. Burnt and hurting Aches the loss .

Icy surface fractured, Cracked fissures, broken, Again, In many places. Many things shape us - broken ice woman by killersmemo DeviantART Fragile, cold, and hard, Flat edges, touched-- Seeps  The one healing bleeds. Softened sometimes, Within, burning heat, Deep And Pressured without. Hear the same tune, Cycles the jukebox, Spins Playing the encore. The ice pick hits, Grates and shaves-- chips, Flakes, Chisel shapes the form. Purpose unseen is known, By One Mind Above, Works Together For Good. She skates across, A well-worn surface, Gone To make her own mark.

Reverberating Recoil Contemplative by Rainripple on deviantART Pacing rattles my nerves. Steps upon the floor-- Back and forth, Up and down. Heavily... In my soul, I sense a Reverberating pound. Unnerving me, I shake within. Unseen, unknown to those around. I do not want to control, Forcing others to compensate, To quietly tiptoe, Afraid to make a sound. Yet, within the string tightens. Each step plucks a shrilling chord. Inward, I recoil. Oh, how trauma preconditions me. The tremors cannot be ignored. Tense, I clench my jaw, Hoping, waiting, breath. Once again I endure. He walked out and shut the door. Finally, I release. I sense relief. Anxious - no more.

photo by eigrieves on DeviantART Ghastly company-- I am to me Solitary soul of gloom Beating pulse flows through my veins. Alone, yet, with the red blood moon. Sensations approaching the cell door, Creeping, silently upon the floor, Dread and terror race to my brain, Man-made walls make me insane. Oh, forgive my wretched past, Hope to drink from Grace’s glass, Grinding metal grates the cage, I can’t escape my judgment's page. Read the Word He gave to me, It's the only way for me to see, Passed these wall that capture me, To the horizon of tomorrows' seas.

It is true. Anyone who has been abused will struggle deeply with their sexuality. Often they will be hyper-sexual until the appropriate time of the sanctity of marriage... and then they will freeze. It is not like a person can turn on or off a switch to sexuality any differently than they can stop depression or anxiety. Sex after abuse take work in learning to trust and also to enjoy touch again. by Lala-lizzy at Deviantart It's time again, The deep allure, Of wanting more. So I pretend, That I am dead, In my love's bed. The creeping nudge To like a tree Give more of me. Yet, in my head, And numb body, I fight to be. The sweet response To his caress - I now undress. His tender touch And luscious kiss Melts my resist. To know my love, And to be known Is two alone - as one.

by red85 at deviantart A worker with an empty chest. A cook without a cup or spoons. I labored to produce my best Without the simplest of tools. No wool to spin the wheel to yarn. No song to soothe and heal. I did all I knew to raise them up And let the Potter spin His wheel.

Cubist collage attacked, Expectation failed, Sum of destruction seems Real world looks un-nailed. By Mushroombrain on deviantART Not going far enough, Broke the fruit dish, Cannot glue together --You Missed what Cezanne wished. Assault the painting within, Abandon the medium. Ready-made objects Don't equate the sum. Independent artist Show provocative ways, Blurring boundaries in Degradation displays. Set the stage for deskilled, Experimental progeny. Vandalize a painting -- Is What some want to see. Paint splattered and poured On trash encrusted surface. Ghostly traces in gilded frames Brings tyranny of purchase. Artist choose what art is. Can destruction be vandalism? Pathological passion - It Depends on your prism.

I held your hand, Dreams upon your face. We danced slow songs Heart beats of grace. dance by melodyofleeloo on deviant art I led my love Never been kissed. Chose purity, Nothing been missed. I fit the plan, Not left to fate. Prayers had been said. God bring my mate. I was the one, A dream come true. Each piece in place, Up to "I do". I felt the pain, Shame hid in me. You believed more Than I could see. I failed at life, You would succeed. Can't hold you back I now concede. I never brought To you a ring. He is the one- Now you can sing. I'm looking down, Dreams upon your face. Joy fills my heart, You found your place. I let you go, You deserved more. In His embrace, I leave the shore.

Mama, naturally. A child loves his mom, connected as one from conception in her womb. by bailey--elizabeth on deviantART Birth pangs, naturally, Discorded at birth, No pulsing between, Empathetic Or flatline. Children, naturally, Completely depend On mama for needs, Hopefully A bond builds. Parents, naturally, Are beloved, it's said. The childhood window Closes quickly. Locus food. Regrets, naturally, Eat away her peace. Could have been's haunt. A mother's heart Never stops. Loving, hoping, trying. Even unrequited. Her longing remains, For her child's love Until she dies.

by Isikol on devientart, boris tribute My flesh, my muscles and my bones, I flex and lift my bronzing tones, I once was skinny, dust and dirt, Now I'm built, I hold the earth. Nothing easy comes to me, Grovel, work, I can not flee. Words haunt, howl, from my past, Blows in frozen, bred to last. By my brow and pumping grit I resolve, no more, I spit, Cradle to my bed alone Four walls free me from that home. Choose I must now - how I live, Running springs no longer give, Dig my own well, for my thirst, Raging feelings, out I curse. Cut the strings that held me down Dangling offers - sins abound. Taste the apple from the tree, Rotten to the core, I see. Pleasures, crutches, hold me back, Mirrors glaring, what I lack, Smoke defuses, nothings clear, But the song of panting deer. Brawn and might can get me far, Still I'm crawling on the floor. Willed erect now, full of pride. Satan lurled me, 'course, he lied. My redeemer, sees my core, ...

Said I to God, "Love me, Pour down your showers from heaven. Release your geysers from earth. Surround Me in Your presence. Let me float weightless in You, Absorbing goodness into every crevices' That I might be saturated, That my thirst would be quenched, That I would never need another." And God so willingly poured out His love on me, Little me - to the world I am so minor, Just a one in a crowd of millions- even more, A grain of sand upon which the ocean roar, A particle of dust--clothed away- unwanted. But to God I am His everything, A priceless daughter of the King. My heart bursts forth with exuberant, To know, He joys, that I exist. A gift - a gift - I am to Him And He to me - far greater. To love as He - I can not measure Nor ever - though try, I might - to do Like the river He pours out for me and you. Oh, ask Him, try and you will see You will know for yourself - His love - as He has for me.

by katiepox on DevianArt Dead leaves float low. First frost is mean. The dragonfly is here and gone In one day. Creation never stays Each - in due time - Makes its way To its continued purpose. We act, all day, Narrowly we play, Like Forever we will be. Yet coffins float upon the sea.