Creative Corner: Poetry by Ritual Abuse Survivors	Ritual Abuse, Ritual Crime and Healing

 

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I wrote a thing the other day
I halfway liked --
Or more than half
If truth were known
And stopped myself
In my tracks
Dead
From writing any more.

In some way
It has connections
With the reasons my feet
Burn like fire
And my skin feels hot
Underneath
And gritty like a dust storm
When one is near
Whose body I would have
To mine
And cannot
Or would not
Or he would not,
And the reasons
I want to fuck my brains out
When I get angry.

• Tapir, September 18, 1986

 

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