Poems about The Power of Voice

You used that blood stained mirror that you placed on the floor to see who would be coming down the hall. you placed it against the wall on the floor so perfectly
so you see who was coming down the hall when you would get into my bed and abuse me over and over again. you cut my heart deeper than any knife could. you forever destroyed my soul. Every time I look into a mirror today I am reminded of what you did to me. You cut my heart and I bleed out. I scream for help but they don't hear my screams, nor my cries for help. My tears flow steady like a faucet turned on.
You stole my identity. I don't know who I am. I have anxiety attacks and panic attacks I don't like being around other people. I am scared all the time. Why did you hurt me why did you take my innocence ???????????? I hate you for what you did to me. you destroyed my life. you made me run from life instead of living a healthy normal life. I was spending all my life running from everyone and everything. Scared to close my eyes rocking myself to sleep thats how scared I was. I don't know how to have relationships. My entire family abandoned me as well as my friends nobody could understand why I was the way I was. My mind has never forgotten what you have done to me. I am all alone today are you happy answer me are you ? I don't know how to forgive I can't forgive nor will I ever forgive you for what you did to me. I missed out on life you selfish bastard. what did you do to me ? I will tell you what you did to me you shattered me into millions of pieces Leaving me to pick up the pieces. And I didn't know how to fix it . I didn't know how to fix it. I just didn't know to fix me. The constant thoughts of ending my life because of what you did to me. Please somebody help please, he's hurting me please stop him please.I take that sharp edged blood stained mirror and I stab it into my heart to stop the pain end my suffering. not wanting to live because the pain is to much to handle. End my suffering.I am numb. My screams turn into screams of losing my sanity losing control of my mental state. Having a nervous break down. when the thoughts of what you did to me hit me hard I feel I am going to lose my sanity. You bastard what did you do to me No No No don't touch me don't ever touch me again. You had no right no right. I hate you. Can you hear me losing my sanity ? answer me. DONT TOUCH ME , DONT TOUCH ME, DONT TOUCH ME. DONT TOUCH ME EVER AGAIN.It was my body and you used it for your own needs.I hate you. I am on my journey to healing. do you know i am scared to die because I don't want my last thoughts on my death bed be of you abusing me. I hate you. I can't ever forgive you.I have had to resort to doing drugs to mask my trauma so I wouldn't hurt as bad. Why did you destroy me ? I hurt so much. my eyes turn black and the tears that flow down my face turns blood. To serve as a constant reminder of what you did to me. How you cut me deep. Iv'e more to say but you not worth my time anymore. I'm destroyed. And I am in counselling and support groups.I am on my Journey to healing. you are not worth another though any longer I am leaving you behind. This Is about me know. No goodbyes. You are nothing to me and thought it's taking time to heal from what you did to me. I will get there because I am a strong and I am survivor. I am going to close this chapter no matter how long it takes and I am going to heal. I want to be free to soar the skies. Be what I want to be. And dream. And live. It's my time to heal.

A Flower’s Tale

Wasted Nights,
Wasted Days,
Oh my time!
Wasted away.

Sitting still,
Atop a hill.
Sitting quiet,
In a dress so white.

Beads of water upon my head,
Beads of water trickling down my face.
Glistening as it touches my foot,
Then lies glistening; on grass, on wood.

Then a cruel hand picks me off,
Then carries me in clasped hands, so gruff!
All while I’m screaming of pain,
Of hurt and grief; no longer sane.

Then put me in a shallow vase,
Filled with water, made of glass.
My crumbling carcass writhes in pain,
All my cries are but in vain.
I have nothing more to gain,
All my hopes have now been slain.

Slain before I could grow old,
Slain before I could be bold,
Slain before I could live life,
Slain before I went through strife.

Now while I wait; awaiting death,
Waiting for the sun to set,
To cast a shadow on my collapsed form;
Born in solitude; in solitude gone.

I think of all my wasted time,
Wasted Days and Wasted Nights.
I really did want to live life,
Yet I’ll be gone with no great fights.

By RAIMA GHOSH

MY RIGHTS

I have every right to feel the pain of what I went through
I have every right to say I should not have gone through these experiences

I have every right to still feel the afflictions of what I endured for years

I have every right to say it was never my fault to begin with
I have every right to say I was placed in a toxic and abusive environment

I have every right to express fully that not everything happens for a reason

I have every right to say I could not learn from certain experiences because those experiences should not have been lessons to have learned from

To me, that just sounds condoning, neglectful and invalidating

What happened to me is real
What they did was not okay

I have every right to shed my tears
I have every right to sniffle and frown

To break into pieces
To hate and be angry

I owe myself the self-validation I never once received from my so-called family

I deserve to not want to forgive
To not be pressured or made to feel guilty for not wanting to forgive

I deserve to do what feels best for me
Even if it differentiates from other people's perceptions

It is not about anyone but me

I am fed up with listening to others but disregarding myself
I am tired of putting myself in convos where my experiences are belittled

I was gravely abused throughout childhood, and it has been affecting me to this day

This I will admit
This I will not be afraid to admit

This I will stop feeling shame for
My inner child deserves to be heard, believed, understood and acknowledged

I will be the one to continue giving her that
For what she battled, no one will ever understand

Except herself and her Originator
Plus, the very few people on planet Earth who actually care about the hard things the rest of humanity are too prideful to speak about

—the end 💔

A Flower’s Tale

Wasted Nights,
Wasted Days,
Oh my time!
Wasted away.

Sitting still,
Atop a hill.
Sitting quiet,
In a dress so white.

Beads of water upon my head,
Beads of water trickling down my face.
Glistening as it touches my foot,
Then lies glistening; on grass, on wood.

Then a cruel hand picks me off,
Then carries me in clasped hands, so gruff!
All while I’m screaming of pain,
Of hurt and grief; no longer sane.

Then put me in a shallow vase,
Filled with water, made of glass.
My crumbling carcass writhes in pain,
All my cries are but in vain.
I have nothing more to gain,
All my hopes have now been slain.

Slain before I could grow old,
Slain before I could be bold,
Slain before I could live life,
Slain before I went through strife.

Now while I wait; awaiting death,
Waiting for the sun to set,
To cast a shadow on my collapsed form;
Born in solitude; in solitude gone.

I think of all my wasted time,
Wasted Days and Wasted Nights.
I really did want to live life,
Yet I’ll be gone with no great fights.

By RAIMA GHOSH

UNTITLED

This ain’t easy at all,
So bravo to you,
You brave and authentic soul,
What courage you show,
To know you are no longer alone,

Courage,

I know you felt as if you had no air to breathe for quite some time,
A long time to be quite real,
(But) Now you are free to breathe,

Truly I tell you, what courage you show,

Let breathing be a reminder to you of the present time of where you are destined to be,
What a brave soul you are,
Only God knows the tightness you experienced within,
Trying to gasp for air through the suffocations of the experience,

This is not easy to express let alone to have experienced…
As a little child,
Hence, I am truly grateful for you,

Remember, I will always be here as a reminder to your Truth,
To your knowing,
By the simple acts of nodding and acknowledging all you have been through,
Yet, are still going through,

Oh my poor soul,
In the midsts of this e-motional pain,
You don’t ever have to explain to another soul,
It’s up to you and you only,
You only my inner child,

A quilt of words is all you need,
Remember, the strength and power lies in your whispers,
Trust me my child,
Believe me,
You are here, and never alone,
I love you,
The Lord loves you.

I got the invite.
I want to SCREAM.

A single Word

Dub poetry
Spoken word
Beat poetry
Slam poetry

Transformative poetry

Poetry pure poetry
Open heart

dissolves the chains
that once were viewed as unbreakable
invites me to see
that it is me
that is unbreakable

poetry has the power
to overturn those imposed sentences
pain, torment, shame,
and
all the other shadows that linger
outside our form

to be heard
to be scene
we are the ones
uncovering shrouds

how do I have to be
in order
for you to be free

when words
become poems

doors open
pathways surface
connections
create a choir
heard round the world

So here we are
Together

Weaving quilts
made of words
So strong that they float

Gentle
Through past
Lighting this very moment

Shining on…
Our future

Stigma will no longer sew my lips shut, it cannot.

Stigma will no longer shame me into a shell, it cannot.

Stigma is the toxin that runs through society, but no longer through me. It cannot.

Stigma is the faceless fear that tried to force me into inaction. But now, it cannot.

Stigma helped my perpetrator get away with his crime, but now, it cannot.

Stigma helped complicit institutions cover up abuse, but now, it cannot.

Stigma is being disrupted and dismantled, and it will no longer prevent the truth.

Stigma is being unmasked and uncovered, and it will no longer trap any youth.

Stigma is a relic of the past, showing the greatest contrast.

For now, the darkness cannot live here, only truth and light.

Shame wreathes my morning, like the thickest mist.
I trickle through the day, craving the night.
I scour those nights. Does peace hide, in some scream?
But where to find it?

I can’t even find my car keys!
Brothers, sisters, I need you. Whisper in my ear.
Reflect my shaming in your tear-filled eye.
Your wounded healing takes away my fear.
Truth clears the mist, and I can see the sky.
Better: I see the circle, claim my place.
I breathe with you. Your courage is my grace.

I grazed my rage today. It flushed my skin.
A lava-storm erupted deep within
But stayed inside, for grown-up girls and boys
Are not supposed to make an angry noise.
Bugger that! I AM, I rightly AM.
Rage that is heard, transforms - to mighty trees,
Orchards that blaze a thousand energies,
That fruit a thousand futures, as is just.
The alchemy of anger into trust.
Trust! That’s the big one. That means me and you.
That what you say, and what I feel are true.