Inside Out (poem)

My shirt is inside out.
And so is my brain.
I don't even care.
I can't escape the memories.
I can't escape the pain.
I feel like I'm not even there.

I want to cut.
I want to burn.
I want to teach you,

I want to reach you,
But I don't know if you can learn,

Or if you would understand -

Would you even hold my hand

While I crawl through this?

All the degrees in the world
Can't prepare you for this shit.
Unimaginable horror,
And that's just the start of it.

So write your precious notes about
All the progress I have made.
All the bullshit you have fed me.
All the psychobabble games you've played.

You can't make me be unraped.
You can't make me forget.
You can't untorture me.
You can't erase the regret.
You can't give me back
The babies that died.
You can't give me back
The years I lost,
Or heal this ache inside.

What do you know of pain?
Have you prayed for it to end?
Have you laid in a pool
Of your own clotting blood
And wished for just one friend?

Have you been locked inside a world
That had no clear way out?
Have you held a screaming child
And wished you could shout to the world:

"This is wrong!"

How can I explain
The depth of this pain?
There is only one way I know,
Only one way to show ....
And I promised myself 

I wouldn't go there anymore .....

So I do what I can.

I write and I sing. I try EVERYTHING.

Music I remember.
Hymns I sang as a child.
I try to hold onto faith
And keep my mind from running wild.

But there aren't any songs
About getting torn apart.
And there aren't any hymns
About aching, broken hearts.

Lord, save me from myself.
I have you, and no one else.
The pain reminds me
That this is not my home.
There is a better place
That I will see someday....
But not today,
For I have children yet to raise,
And bills to pay.

So I must go on,
Despite the pain,
Despite the fear.
I must believe in something more
That I cannot see is here.
I must hold on,
Even if I don't know what it's about.
I must somehow keep going,
Even if I'm inside out.

Almost Gone (sonnet)

Just today, in front of the kitchen sink,
I stood for what seemed like over an hour.
"What is the problem?" I surely did think,
Why am I still giving this man power?
I remembered all the times he hurt me --
He said me washing dishes turned him on.
I cringed when I thought of the agony,
But then I remembered -- the bastard's GONE!
He cannot hurt me like that any more.
He can't trap me alone in my kitchen.
Somehow, I'm not as afraid as before,
Because someone took the time to listen.
I'll wash these plates and then just carry on,
For the hold he had on me's almost gone.

Christmas in Reverse (sonnet)

It's almost like Christmas, but in reverse.
There are "gifts" to be opened and explored.
Known or unknown, I'm not sure which is worse --
One thing's for certain, I will not be bored!
I wrapped each mem'ry and stowed it away
Because the pain it held was much too great.
The time has come and today is the day --
No more excuses, no more time to wait.
Do I shake each "box" to see what appears?
Do I judge what is inside based on size?
Do I measure the impact based on tears,
Or do I poke and hope with tight-shut eyes?
I must admit, of this I'm most perplexed,
Which "present" shall I choose to open next?