About the Poetry
This collection of poems is raw, and at times challenging, but what is written honestly depicts my feelings and experiences. Time alone does not heal some wounds. In my case more than 20 years had passed, but without recognition, knowledge and understanding there could never be healing. The weight of carrying this unacknowledged burden for so long nearly broke me.
Healing couldn’t happen in silence but I didn’t have the words – so much had been buried for so long. Writing and poetry offered opportunities to explore thoughts and emotions that I couldn’t verbalise. At times a poem’s structure provided a level of support that allowed me to broach otherwise off-limit topics.
During this time I also worked with various mental health professionals, at times in mental healthcare facilities. Writing was one way that I sought to explore and work through these issues.
Content warning: sexual assault, sexual abuse, suicide
Triggered
A Poetry Project
Life Sentence (15.03.2021)
Are you OK?
Am I OK?
Am I OK?
When did such a simple question become so hard to answer?
I feel a silent scream erupting from my lungs, from my pores, from the very core of my being.
Am I OK?
I want to curl up in a ball and sleep forever, but the sleep won't come. I'm restless, moving, eyes endlessly leaking.
Am I OK?
The news brings waves of so many stories of rape, abuse and death. A new story every day, every hour.
Am I OK?
Explaining words like 'rape' and 'consent' to a seven year old.
Forget COVID. Forget Terrorism. Statistically men are a far greater danger to her.
#notallmen makes me want to vomit because it's all about men, right? He was such a brilliant student with such a promising future, now ruined. His poor career. If only she'd have kept quiet, then it would all be OK.
Am I OK?
I don't know, but more importantly, we're not OK.
1 in 6 women sexually assaulted is not OK.
1 in 5 children sexually abused is not OK.
There is my hurt, but I grieve a collective trauma.
Our society is not OK.
Escaping (17.03.2021)
Lying motionless
Barely breathing - or thinking
Briefly, I am free
Entitled (30.03.2021)
I know you, though we've never met before.
I've worked for you many times, and served you countless many more.
We've met in the street and in the pub, and I've feared you on my way home.
You say that I should be on guard, and that I shouldn't go out alone.
You say I shouldn't wear that, shouldn't drink that, and must always be congenial.
You seem to think that you're entitled to my attention, to my mind, and to my smile.
And if I smile or say hello, or walk alone or God forbid I have a drink –
You think that you're entitled to so much more.
Well, I say Fuck You.
And fuck your dirty mouth and your wandering hands too.
I say that there are many things that you should have learned long ago.
So many men get it - aren't you embarrassed?
Is it that you don't understand or that you just don't care?
Well, I'm here to educate you.
You are not entitled to my body.
I'll smile when I want to.
You are not entitled to my attention.
And keep your fucking hands off me!
And if you slip, I warn you, I'm angry.
We're fucking angry.
And we'll be more than happy to enlighten you.
Life Raft (09.04.2021)
Beneath the surface
Istruggletobreathandthewavescrashoverheadflashinglightthenblacknessthenlightthenblack andItumbleandtwistlikedriftwoodinthemurkydarknessdesperatetofillmylungsbutthereis
N E V e R
e N o U G H
a i r
And then you reach out and
I scramble aboard
the life raft
that is you
The storm doesn't stop
but in your arms
I am safe.
A Letter to my Rapists (12.04.2021)
Where are you now?
Do you lie awake?
Do you even remember?
Do those memories match mine?
Are our memories like halved hearts?
Fitting together and filling the voids in each adjacent angle.
But a severed heart bleeds and blurs. Nothing is clear-cut.
Do you have children?
What do you teach them?
Little versions of you. A scary thought.
Does it haunt you?
Do you tremble and feel nauseous at the thought of me?
Is your pain the other half of mine? Do they cancel each other out?
Or does each magnify through our bloodlines so that our sorry story is doomed
to repeat until the end of time.
Dark Thoughts (13.04.2021)
Is it one at a time or does everyone watch?
Do they laugh? Do they high five?
When rape is sport, do they cheer each other on?
Is it a competition and is there a prize?
The prize can't be me, unless it's for participation.
No one gets left out
... except me, but I don't count.
These are the dark thoughts that bounce around my head
when the only memory I have is
r
u
n
n
i
n g
down the bruising on my legs
Monster (14.04.2021)
A menacing, ravenous beast lurks beneath
Alive, it thrives on memories of calm and contentment
It’s inside of me, part of me, composed of me – I cannot flee
Trailing panic in its wake - it writhes around being and mind
Demanding attention, energy, emotions – an unpayable ransom.
The surface might glisten, temperate and still, but…
There’s a creature to be placated with morsels of me, lest -
It ransacks and raids in battles that cannot be won.
Now That She’s Gone V6 (05.07.21)
I didn’t realise how carefree she was –
How natural her smile –
I didn’t appreciate how her essence shone –
As she beguiled the time –
I didn’t understand how she shared
Her warmth with all but not within –
And now that she’s gone… I see her…
I grieve… for the stranger she’d always been.
Shame (29.07.21)
My shame is a scarlet letter
Stamped deep upon my breast
It wears me from each day’s dawn
Until I lay my head to rest
Passers-by stare – in horror?
Or is it curiosity?
How a waif of a thing –
Could commit such atrocity?
The pain flows from my very core
And strangers move away
And me? I only wonder how…
I’ll live out this wretched day.
You’re Looking Well (29.08.21)
If you only knew what keeps me up at night
If you only knew the price of smiling through the fright
If you only knew how hard I need to strive
To maintain an air, convincing others that I'm alive.
Then you might understand how broken and hollow I am within
A battle between pain and meds - a toss on which will win
The facade keeps me upright - hiding, holding me together
If you can't see my anguish, it's because I'm toiling to stay tethered
To protect us from the lava that erupts with little warning
And leaves in its wake broken bodies, burning, mourning.
Lifelines (01.09.21)
It’s the moments in between
The rush and pain of life
Those moments that could remain unseen
That have me here holding on.
You Have No Idea (10.2021)
If there ever was a phrase that I’ve learned to hate
It’s “Sick? But you’re looking great.”
…………… Thanks ………………
See, I was taught when I was just four years old,
To lie on the floor and do as I was told
I learned that everyone’s feelings mean more than mine
And that fear, pain and shame are easier to bear
If you bury them deep - pretend they aren’t there
Anger is unruly, hot - harder to hide
It often erupts - you can’t keep it inside
So “being difficult” is added to your load
As you smile and smile and do as you’re told.
So don’t be shocked if I don’t fall apart
There are many scars that only show in the dark.
Unseen (27.10.2021)
If this feeling had a sound, its pitch would deafen, sharp and shrill
If this pain had a scent, it would sicken, pungent and putrid
If this emotion had a taste, it would be that of blood and bile
But instead it’s imperceptible to anyone but me
Alone, I drown in the depths of silence
Unseen, I scream into the darkness
Unheard, I rage mindlessly, pointlessly
Not understood but underground
Buried alive with a smile on her face.
Suicide Letter (01.03.2022)
29.11.2021
What follows are my carefully chosen phrases to make giving up acceptable.
These are my gentle yet wise words to heal and inspire the broken hearts of my children.
Next come the beautifully spun verses prompting all to remember me with nought but kindness.
And lastly find my final thoughts - to set my spirit free.
With all my love,
Sarah xx
Ocean Swim (02.12.2021)
You ask me how I’m doing, but I don’t know what to say
What is this emotion that I feel today?
I laugh, I smile, I talk a while - but is this really me?
Or is this just the image of what you wanted me to be?
You see, I’m in the waves and swimming,
Even though I came back to shore
My spirit is kicking these ropes and chains
And I’ve done this all before.
You tell me what will fix me, take the red then blue,
But doesn’t it all just numb me, leaving but a residue,
I want to scream, I want to be free, just to pick up and run
Instead of lining up at this window, doing what must be done.
You see, I’m in the waves and swimming,
Even though I came back to shore
My spirit is fighting these drugs and constraints
And I’ve done this all before.
So here I am with a choice to make
Is it my pain or theirs?
When I think of their fragile hearts,
I know it’s mine to bear.
But I’ll be in the waves and swimming,
Even though I came back to shore
My spirit will bend and my spirit will break
And I’ve done this all before.
Frozen (02.12.2021)
The tears won’t come - my being implodes
The fears are numbed but not the cold
I’ve felt everything now I can’t think straight
Emotional overload – a heart dissipates
I’ve smiled so long my face it burns
My body has no aim but still it yearns
I’m filled with rage that I’m loath to spill
Cracks are tearing apart – beyond my will
The tears won’t come despite the pain
How much can one person sustain?
Lessons from Hospital (22.12.2021)
Alone on a mattress on the floor
in the darkest moments before dawn
with the raucous laughter of
men roaming the halls of
my dreams and my reality
I learned that the notion of safety
is utterly subjective.
And that their objective is 'alive',
'well' is an optional extra
and I'm doubting if
I ticked that box.
I discovered how
crippling and overpowering terror
is found in a room with guards
(though not intended for me)
a number: 32
a word: involuntary.
A roomful of happiness -
on the other hand -
fits into a
styrofoam cup,
albeit lukewarm.
I've seen life in pictures
when words fail.
I learned how sanity has a smell
and that it's always on the
other side of that window.
And that if no one is paying attention
a goodbye can be quick as a zip tie.
I've witnessed proof that
laughter is treasure -
a sword and a shield -
keeping the dragons
a safe distance away.
A ward full of laughter
safeguards from
gargantuan giants -
even if just momentarily.
I've seen a phoenix rise,
and a Buddha saved,
and kindness thrive,
bringing the room to tears.
Selfish (12.02.2022)
My pain has no space for yours –
My grief makes it hard to see clear.
So, when I listen to your words
All my broken ears will hear
Is my fractured heart screaming –
“You have no idea!”
Haunted (28.02.2022)
They say wherever you go, there you are.
But you're here too, and I've seen your face before.
Acrid breath on the back of my neck.
Making my skin crawl, there's a bug on the line.
Scattering my thoughts, leaves on the wind.
The weight on my chest makes it hard to breath.
What was I saying again?
Wherever I go, there you are.
Hope
A delicate clutch
held close to the chest
not daring to ease your grip
for fear of them washing away
with all that the storm has
already claimed for its own.
You feel the dirt between your
thumb and your first finger
reassuring in its texture,
scent, and earthy coolth.
Some things never change.
Tentative, you create a nesting
place, an alcove, a safe home,
A space to flex and become -
A tender new beginning.
You do not sow with expectation -
You cannot.
But in the very act of covering
each deposit with soil - you gently
press these into being.