Sadness..

for the broken child whimpering in the closet,
for the little one who hides behind the gas meter in the alley,
wet, cold and shaking in the night
for the homeless one who wandered, scared, hidden, hungry,
and for the one who doesn’t blink or sleep for Fear of the Monsters,
that keep reaching from the dark

Gratitude

for the one who sings softly “here comes the Sun Little Darling” Knowing that her eyes will never see the morning’s dawn

Pain..

unyielding..body shaking shudders of emotional agony brought forth in the knowledge that nothing stops an Abuser from being an abuser except the abuser….heartless...violent shadows…who devour a soul’s flame..making the world a darker place..a scary place..a lonely place..

Hope

for it’s own sake..when..“It” is all I am…

Mad

That I have to carry a plastic bag to retch in, just in case I am triggered by the smell of rotten meat

That I loose my eyesight to the external world when my inner site comes into focus

That I suffer stroke like symptoms when my internal coping mechanisms are overwhelmed, causing my body to be binded and voiceless

That the most I have ever not felt is when I am being abused, and having parts of me need it, as if the pain is the oxygen in which to breath...broken..this is..so broken..like shards of a mirror.. reflections of damage done..

Thank you Elizabeth for creating this thread..kind thoughts and gentle hugs..from my many lost ones to your one and many