
They filled your mind with promises
An array of enticing colors
Leading you up a perilous climb
Achieving their desired seclusion
They lined your path with shackles
Disguised as your own choices
Led to a room with no exits, teetering
On a place demanding submission
Close enough to rescue that its light
Shines like a beacon upon you
Yet others cannot see what they do not wish to see
Leaving you doused in invisibility
They handed you poison dressed up as a toy
An undetectable trap
It feels heavy in your arms
Yet you dismiss its discomfort
Just as you were instructed
You were chosen
You were special
You stood out to them in some way
You hold their secrets
Quiet and steady
Not letting them see
How it makes you tremble
You were never meant to understand
The position they put you in
Blind obedience is the
Tower they constructed
In the labyrinth you now reside
This weight placed upon you
Was never your choice
Its ensnaring complexity
Contrived specifically for you
To lure you in and then slowly break
You into scattered pieces
I see your pain tucked in deep beneath your
Outward strength and courage
Far from their grip you stand frozen in time
Afraid to step down and see
The sight of your suffering
Might carry its own weight somehow worse than living in it
How can you know that it is safer below
Than the misery you are wrapped in
How can I ask more from you
Than what you have already given
Abuse is so devastating and lasts a life time
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π
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A powerful poem and artwork. An ode to yourself and others. Betrayal cuts so deep. Youβve captured the brutal unfairness of it. π
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Thank you π
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Wow, what a painting! Feelings have come out from deep inside through the hands, hopefully the process offered some relief. It surely is exquisite…
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Thank you π
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No one should ever have to deal with that. Ever.
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π
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This painting is incredible and the words beautiful, as always π I hope this was healing for you! Sending you my best wishes β€
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Thank you so much! ππ
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Sara…I could feel the depth of uneasiness in your words and your painting perfectly expresses the loss of youthful innocence. Itβs sad how many nightmares can be more real than even our dreams. β€οΈ
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πthank youπ
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β€οΈπβ€οΈ
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