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

 

The Parts of Me

Part of me is gravel,
sharp and painful to tread upon.

Replete,
with the memory as an etching upon my soul.

Enraged...Wrathful....wishing to claw at
the transgressors whose ungodliness
brought forth the fracture of
my psyche.

Part of me is ocean,
deep and full of wonderment.

A muse,
finding beauty amongst the many facets of creation.
Peering deeply beyond the surface of the seemingly impenetrable water
discovering the plethora of knowledge and treasure
beneath.

Part of me is mute,
Dulcet as a mouse in the dark of the night.

Quiet,
without the ability to utter the very
secrets that brought about the birth
of the terror that dwells in my heart.

Part of me is anguished,
Possessing enough pain to bring forth a lake of tears.

Agonized,
because of loss and disappointment.
Grieving for the lost childhood and the lost ability to obtain
the self-reliance needed for survival.

All of me is wounded,
Bleeding within from unhealed harms inflicted long ago.

Fractured,
and unsure of the emotion that will greet us each day
or.......

each moment.

• Tania

 

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