Gall

By Michele Dickson

You took my hand
Led me to your imprisoned bed
Me, giving up my safety, laden
In heaviness, I present my oneness
Which was hidden, guarded
You stroke my face, that ugliness, uncaring piece
A spoonful of unique crimson
My eyes shrouded by silk
The painful release of waters, built up
The key under your tongue, spit
I am cuffed, numb
My legs opened
Your lids flutter, a release
The metal cuts me, inside sickened
I feel weight, disconnected
No kiss, disrespecting body
My breathing, expanse
Cotton in my mouth
A broken wheel in awe
The mothered unwanted son held on
To a crippled sky

Author Statement

I was sexually tortured by my boyfriend and this is my coming to terms with my Pain. I have done a lot of work in therapy but writing poetry is a way to get it out of me and put it away, to never look at it again. It’s a place to render the cutting, the trauma, the formation of a new me, free from one who took from me, where I find my soul again.

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