A year in the life of a survivor

Sleeping is peaceful,

the darkenss is a blanket that surrounds and comforts.

Dreams are vivid, full of life, and love.

I lay my head on the pillow ready for peace to overcome my soul.

I'm dragged through memories of hate and lust. 

The darkness no longer comforts but destroys 

The black is consuming, full of secrets, and lies.

Then HE appears.....

Dressed in robes of anger.

I'm paraylazied no longer able to float.

The icy hands of death wrap around my throat, 

squezzing the very beauty of life from my body. 

I'm thrown through the air, 

my body limp and broken 

like the snow coverved branches of winter. 

My soul used,

abused,

left for dead.

I wake from the night 

Screams filling the air 

My breath comes in ragged stretches, 

dry and horse.

I look back on that night 

tears still leaving roads of sandness on my face

But no longer am i plagued by the fear he left.

No longer fleaing from touch

No longer a stake of pain in my heart

Time heals all wounds

some in mintues

some in hours

and some in years 

but time makes us stronger if we let it.

This year time made me a Survivor 

not a victim.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741