You are a different kind
Of damaged, chaotic mind
Confused you use words
As projection swords and
I see the hurt behind the eyes
The reflection as your soul dies
Lie by lie by lie; the ones you
Tell yourself are true so you
Have a good enough excuse
To dart the arrows with no regard
Of the blood flown from hearts
Torn apart by your anger and
My mind says danger. Danger.
There is pain too deep to touch,
A hole that one could fall through
To end up in a deep abyss
Of your untethered loneliness.
Such a sunflower shouldn’t die
Drowning inside an inability to cry,
You sip illusion, a savory wine;
Your mirror, a self-made design.
Everything that makes you wince
Tells you what needs love’s attention
As you ignore. Ignore. Ignore;
The parts of you so bruised and sore.
I can only sit and observe,
The winding streets of your hurt
Hovering above the purity
Stolen from your childhood
An inability to develop so you
Scrambled and scratched your
Way through life; numb the wounds
With bottles of booze, laugh away
The moments draining your happy,
Regret and listing what you’re lacking.
I feel slightly stoic and disinterested,
An odd reaction, to not feel sorry
For the churning of your own hurting.
When light floats inside your air
You call the darkness; safer there?
No more minutes can pass me by.
I’m swiftly running out of time; must
Focus forward; head held high
Silently take the podium and speak.
Empowered woman. Empowered me.
©️ VennieKocsis
venniekocsis.com 
When light floats inside your air
You call the darkness; safer there? . . . . . .
Do you realize that among all those I know (and knew) in the ‘body’ that you are just about the only one who has the balls to express their indignation? . . . That has the balls to express yourself and reveal your true feelings?
To me it doesn’t matter whether you are absolutely correct in all of your assumptions as much as the fact that you are absolutely indignant to the circumstances that caused them.
You are a charter member in a breed that, like a bug, is quickly disappearing under the carpet of fear . . . you are still alive and kicking in the land of the dead . . . I applaud you.
LikeLike
Thank you. There’s nothing to fear for me. I make no assumptions. I grew up in and lived Sam Fife’s Move of God. There’s no assumptions in the truth. I do want to say, I am not the only one speaking. Glori Williams who left just 6 years ago soeaks loudly too; how the abuses haven’t stopped, just modernized over th years. With that said, just for meanings’ sake, this poem isn’t directed to them persay, but instead every person who won’t choose Healing. The more we heal, the easier it becomes to tell the truth. 💞💞
LikeLike
I read your book and being one who was actually in Ak about the same time I believe you are not assuming anything. . . . . I’m just impressed with the fact that you . . . (quote) Do you realize that among all those I know (and knew) in the ‘body’ that you are just about the only one who has the balls to express their indignation? That last paragraph even I have a hard time understanding . . . (I think I got lost in wannabe cleverness)
LikeLiked by 1 person
I often get lost in wanna cleverness too, Met with the blank stare until a I realize ah… humor only cult kids can understand. The point I hoped most to drive home in my book, is the way a child sees and experiences their trauma, how they interpret it, their perspective and bottled up emotions. If I succeeded in doing that, then I feel like I accomplished my goal. 💞
LikeLike
you did . . . I was mesmerized by the little girl living a life so different from my own experience. I appreciate your candor and well, it was just a good book about a horrible experience . . . good luck on your next one,
LikeLike