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#162430 - 06/20/07 12:32 PM Notes
Jaysen Offline

Registered: 06/14/06
Posts: 680
Why do my words spit out with such misery? Each stanza a tribute to my ever weakened will to live, each line written with the blood and tears of a tortured soul inside this hollow man.

This page an epitaph for my dying spirit, I try my hardest to expose the sorrow that cripples me, that forces me to cry… try to get this virus out of my system before it consumes me.

Why does my poetry disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed?

Why is every verse more haunting than the last? Writing with all the passion and desperation of a prisoner, kept in darkness to be tortured and interrogated.

To learn what?

To learn what black rivers of macabre thoughts run through my psyche? To catch a glimpse of my tormentor at last? No one can know the suffering I can't let go of, relief is on a higher plane, and my wings are broken and cauterized.

Why does my writing cause the wholesome and happy to weep at my distress?

Because this is a doorway into the mind of a survivor.

Because this is the only thing that keeps me sane, if I am at all...

Some people write suicide notes, I write poetry.

#162440 - 06/20/07 01:28 PM Re: Notes [Re: Jaysen]
healingpartner Offline

Registered: 04/04/07
Posts: 407

One thing I do want you to know is that all tears are not sadness...some are anger. I see the beautiful lyrical soul, so feeling, so caring that was trampled by pure evil and left to rot. The anger at the evil comes out in tears because there is no one to direct it at.

But he wouldn't die. He fights back with all that is in him.

Some tears are pride in seeing someone beaten down so much come out with such strength. Watching his spirit go on, damaged but not dead.

Some tears are guilt. Guilt that those of us 'normals' never saw never understood, never intervened. Guilt at being spared.

you guys ask why...we ask why not us...why was I spared...looking into Rob's eyes and seeing an 8 yo terrified. Actually talking the 8 yo through one of the 'sessions' you don't come out of that without wondering.

For the most part, I just didn't know. Didn't know what to look for...didn't know cause I never experienced it.

We need to see and feel the pain to understand as much as it is possible to understand. Don't shield us. We are stronger than you think. Let us help. let us into the pit.

For maybe just maybe, we can help repair your wings. But we can't without getting dirty.

Edited by healingpartner (06/20/07 02:14 PM)

#163145 - 06/24/07 09:40 PM Re: Notes [Re: Jaysen]
roadrunner Offline
Administrator Emeritus

Registered: 05/02/05
Posts: 22045
Loc: Carlisle, PA

Originally Posted By: Jaysen
Some people write suicide notes, I write poetry.

And this is why you will succeed, even if you do not yet see that clearly. You fight rather than submit. Those who abused you have rattled the wrong cage!

Much love,

Nobody living can ever stop me
As I go walking my freedom highway.
Nobody living can make me turn back:
This land was made for you and me.
(Woody Guthrie)


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