I keep striving to be
something more than you see
but there’s no breaking free
from what stares back at me
in that silent reflection
it is all just projection
defensive deflection
from dreams of perfection
you love her and hate her
you just can’t escape her
she tears at the seams
always swallowing screams
that keep twisting inside
and there’s nowhere to hide
from the pain she inflicts
on herself she just rips
into skin, into pieces
to run or to fight
nothing makes it alright
so she keeps up the smile
and she buries that vile
recollection of shame
of what seemed like a game
there’s so much left unsaid
and it churns in her head
with a vengeance that seethes
and there’s nothing relieves
she can’t soothe the intent
there’s no safe way to vent
pull that energy back
from the shattering crack
of that rage smashing bone
forcing him to atone
for his hideous crime
for that girl lost in time.
Image from Creative Commons, courtesy of Wendelin Jacober
Hi Laura,
Your poem is tragically powerful. It reminds me of one of my favorite quotes by Jack Kornfield (later tweaked by Oprah): “Forgiving means giving up all hope for a better past.”
Thank you for sharing this!
~Carole
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Thank you, I’m glad you like it. Not sure I’m ready to even consider forgiving yet. But I think that fits, even moving on means giving up hope for a better past. Laura
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