NOTE:
Just to reassure my readers that I don’t self-harm anymore. Unfortunately, I have scars that will never go away, which I have to live with for the rest of my life. It’s not easy – I carry a lot of shame for them, although I appreciate that was my way of surviving the intensity of the agony at that time. My scars are sadly worse than those in the image. I get judged by strangers who stare sometimes. It makes me want the ground to open up and swallow me. I can’t say I’m never tempted to do it again at times when I’m desperate, but I know that I won’t. I owe it to myself, my children and my ever-curious grandchildren. I have a tattoo across some of my scars – it says, “THIS TOO SHALL PASS,” and I know it will in time.
I want to heal and my writing is my way of beginning that journey. Thank you for bearing with me and supporting me with my recent outpourings of grief.
Tramlines embedded
permanent reminders
in soft, yielding flesh
disguising the pain of existence
~~~
The beginning of the slippery slope
the agonising journey
following tracks
side by side by side by side
~~~
Ensuring her instruments
gleaming in the moonlight
spotless from the flame
as she attacks with ferocity
~~~
Pearls of crimson gathering
on her lily-white skin
offering relief
from the shame and guilt
~~~
Never speaking of his sin
holding it all within
brain freeze
a blade on the skin
~~~
Silenced with threats and blame
memories, flashbacks abound
cutting the evil and torture out
of the time when cries went unheard
~~~
Child of her child’s curiosity
she tells of a fall on broken glass
submerging her truths
hoping the child’s thoughts will pass
~~~
No surrender of life or sanity
She needs no permission to write
expressing her pain in words
she’s not giving up on the fight.
Essentially Ellie 