Relic

I am a raw nerve,
exposed to the elements.
I am a crushed seed,
a heart cramping,
a scream caught in a throat
forever.
A crab with no shell
clinging desperately to a rock,
battered by a sullen sea.

I am a bucket,
pierced by a thousand arrows.
Barely contained,
I spill myself uselessly
about this place and that
and I’m mopped with a pitiful glance,
again.
Don’t mind her, she’s broken.
She does that.

I won’t be loved.

I make origami of me.
Fold myself over and over
’til I’m infinitesimal, ’til I could slip
through a crack
in the floorboards.
I reduce myself
to a speck of dust
and dream of becoming an atom.
Unnoticed.

I am a swan
with a broken neck flopping,
lost to grace-
still paddling maniacally,
hopelessly,
like some hellish miracle.
I could care less,
but I’ll never know how.
I am a relic
from another dimension-
I cannot breathe this atmosphere.

I am a survivor of child abuse and set up my blog to help others on the same journey to healing. It is a mix of my own creative writing and articles about PTSD and the journey back to the self. I want to reflect people’s own light back to them so that they can see their true beauty in my words.

My blog can be found at www.artoftrauma.com – feel free to have a look around, any feedback is welcome.

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If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

3 thoughts on “Relic

  1. Like your line “I reduce myself to a speck of dust”. Feel the same about myself. I’m not from an abusive family, but instead an unhappy family. My parents couldn’t be bothered with me. I had to reduce myself always. I remember that feeling.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Deeply powerful –
    both the imagery and the feeling behind it.
    I feel these places. They speak to people I have been, deep behind my eyes…
    and someone I still wrestle with, in the middle of an alien land.

    Liked by 1 person

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