I woke up last week, wanting to write a poem in honor of Child Abuse Prevention Month. April is also National Poetry Month. Here it is.
Un-Elevated; paralyzed by snares
Hallucinating aloneness; empty by capacity-
in fact we’re fashionably hidden,
sentenced by crime;
unaware of confinement in a catastrophe
with small self mutilating incisions – completely livid inside.
Being fingered at four.
Yeah, I know it wasn’t my fault;
being kissed like an adult
I remember the sores.
And because this design of the brain was not God intended,
I experienced a lifetime of pain in those six minutes.
Whether I forgive him or not,
my life was finished.
A new experience began, where that one ended.
My mind was different,
but I didn’t understand why.
A true fortune teller,
God visited me at nine.
He gave me a language to which I can rely,
showed me things that helped me to develop untied.
Nothing hocus pocus, I’m talkin’ soaked in OPEN.
– Ressurrection Graves
Author, Speaker, Poet
Child Sexual Abuse Advocate