A cascade of tears create an inlet
while a desert of scars leaves me stranded
The subtleties of the wounded spirit
won’t always bleed from my wistful heart

I reflect in the ocean of sorrow
whilst famine feeds my storm
Quenching the longing for insight
I am witness to the rising of a new dawn

I will betray this spiritual darkness
by tending to my sacred garden
Soaking the seeds of compassion
I lie in wait for my soul to blossom

They chitter chatter
whispers so low
Hateful words lingering
while judgements grow

They stab the unsuspecting
with their cruelty and lies
giggling as victims bleed out
near death not knowing why

They are master manipulators
if you’re lacking self esteem
Blatantly despising you
then stroke your ego to get what they need

You can fuel their fire
by keeping yourself small
by judging their judgements
You feed the cycle, slowly killing us all

You won’t win through retaliation
don’t let anger control your mind
Feel the sadness of their cruelty
and self compassion is what you’ll find

We, the bullied and near broken
must keep our spirits high
We have a soul responsibility
as Keepers of the Light

It’s never about the oppressors
and their selfish, evil ways
It’s about time to summon your power
and shine your brilliant rays

Trauma triggers you
to be highly alert
to look for danger
at every turn

Oppression is cruel
and wounds the spirit
The truth about trauma
it has no limits

You may get labeled
Anxious or depressed
The truth about trauma
it never rests

It doesn’t have to be
through an accident, war or abuse
The truth about trauma
can be what didn’t happen for you

Neglect and rejection
cause tremendous pain
The truth about trauma
it leaves an invisible stain

Labels like low self concept
or insecure
Discount the truth about trauma
and the pain we endured

If you weren’t nurtured
and basic needs weren’t met
The truth about trauma
it changes our mindset

We believe we aren’t good enough
or permanently scarred
The truth about trauma
perception’s impaired

We are not damaged goods
no flawed character traits
The truth about trauma
doesn’t have to seal our fate

By reconnecting the mind, body
and soul
we uncover the truth about trauma
and reclaim the life that it stole

She walked back in
into the Lions Den
an undeniable fierceness
raging within

She had awakened
a beast so savagely wild
but it was no surprise
to the memory of this child

Though it’s presence was felt
fear was not her concern
She had tamed that beast
every scar they had earned

She took one step forward
it was two steps back
a bold move to bait the devil
anticipating the attack

She led with courage
dropping the armour of her past
the potential risk to survival
would be her greatest conquest

Finally, there was no epic battle
this time, no need to run
One step back in to the lions den
the war had already been won

Bullies have no power
when you realize your worth
so feed your self compassion
and commit to loving yourself first

I wept
for the abandoned child
imprisoned by years of neglect
until I found myself
cradled in the arms of forgiveness

Tender-eyed she gazed upon me
with endless compassion
and gently, unconditionally
weaved her love inside of
my locomotive mind

Ten thousand tremors subside
into a sea of blissful consciousness
My body surrenders its anguish
and I abide in the grace
of self acceptance

I weep
as my soul emerges
like first light on a snow capped peak
highlighting the clouds of oppression,
illuminating the beauty of my existence

Will I remain composed?
As my passion is exposed
Powerless to temptation
I bequeath my sad confession…

I want to steep in your essence
submerge into your scent
indulge in your sweetness
cherish every moment spent

I will let your richness linger
maintaining self control
For shall I delight in your affections
you will surely consume my poetic soul

I begged you
to unweave me from the confines
of this limited plane
and restitch me into
the richness of your tapestry

Instead you unearth my twisted roots
from the sanctuary of your soil
drain my crimson petals
unmoved as I whither away

I scatter desolation
a marred and stagnant bloom
Your unrequited love is conveyed
through the bitter winds of desertion