Dedicated to survivors of domestic violence and sexual abuse. My prayers and sorrow are with you. You are warriors, all.
set the scene
blue ambiance
with pale ambivalence
a certain moral turpitude
conducted with panache
aghast, but abide
take it all, in stride
HIDE
I am penumbral
eclipsed
deposed by disposition
ruefully relegated
to tidal gray
or grey
dependent upon your gravitational
mood this day
baleful and ruinous
this love professed
As I suffer harmful hands
bladed words piercing
ears heart soul
reaping ravages depraved
seeping chi slowly bleeds
into my pride
the thorn in my side
is the fang of a snake
mandala of calamity
engraved over the name
my mother gave me
God knows this
is not my fault
but caught I was
unaware, impaired
and weak with trust
cursed by my absence of worry
and seven times seven damned
naiveté
thinking the shield of faith
could save me
I am not to blame
but in breath same
ugly, unjust
fucking
guilt
weeps from my
hollowed chest
and of the rest
I will speak no more
Penumbral I live
the shadows of a shadow
within the dark
there does lay in tinder
a burning ember, in crippled heart
I tenderly nurse
this spark
will one day speak
of my rage
and upon my own stage
this wraith of a shadow
shall become a Star
image courtesy of Maria Tamrazova and Pinterest
I know that ember in the tinder too well. It took years to leave the denial phase and then years more of my voice being removed from me, the stage of what you so well illustrate as the penumbra, shadows upon shadows. Then some years more of acceptance and moving forward, learning how to once again sync the heart with the tongue, and be heard once again. Beautiful poem, OP, and I especially love the final two lines.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you Amaya, some of the ladies at Blood into Ink, Daisy in the Willows, and your post this morning inspired this piece. You are a survivor, and a warrior
LikeLiked by 2 people
❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙏❤
LikeLike
deeply touched. Have been thinking a lot about Daisy’s post. about my two stalkers on WordPress. How I am 51 and still having to deal with this shit and how we still normalize it as a culture. No good answers other than refusing to be silent
LikeLiked by 1 person
Absolutely. We have to reach a point where this behavior simply cannot be tolerated any longer
LikeLiked by 1 person
I highly recommend that you read Amaya’s piece as well
LikeLike
May I repost on Blood Into Ink?
LikeLiked by 1 person
I would be honored
LikeLiked by 1 person
<3<3
LikeLiked by 1 person
All I can I say is thank you for this. ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are one of my heroes❤
LikeLike
Oh, my word. 🙏💕
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m glad to read this again. I love it… my favorite part is “the thorn in my side is the fang of a snake” It makes me think about how, for me anyway, the signs leading up to abuse were like a thorn in my side, but it became so very poisonous. That poison is still working it’s way out of my system. Thank you for writing this ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Laurie. I’m touched that it resonated so deeply with you. All I can ask for as a writer is that sort of communion with the readers. 🙏❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome. It did resonate with me… you are an amazing writer ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Laurie. It’s really nice to hear that. You’re too kind. I believe you are an amazing writer as well 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! That means a lot coming from you ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙏
LikeLiked by 1 person