There is no sanity in inhumanity,
No reason to reprehensible.
I should stop looking for answers
Were there were never any to begin with.

Night time is how you know it's under your skin
When it slips in insidiously
Like a nightmare or memory
In the weird in between hours
When your hope is fast asleep
But your mind wide awake.

I was frozen to the bed
When he reached inside me
With his hands and his staff
And stole something from me.
Yes, I was bleeding,
But he did not draw his knife.
It was fear that kept me immobilized.
His act, perpetretrated while I was mentally tied,
Has taken my ability to feel safe in my own body.
It has ruined dark corners and altered my mornings,
Left me feeling vulnerable and torn shreds through my psyche.
The **** of a partner ruined all intimacy.
His crime was not one of sheer physical brutality,
But an act of Mental Violence
That has forever altered me.

He should take care not to sunburn,
For he can no longer steal my skin.

My life depends on the contents of an orange bottle.
Without it,
I am on a neurochemical rollercoaster,
Lap bar refusing to pull down.
As the apex of the loop nears,
I must hold on lest I fall and crack my head on the depression below.

I can touch my stability with the end of my pinky finger.
It dances on fishing string or careful drops in shallow water.
A deep breath in or a flick of my finger could upset the balance,
Sending me swinging again.

Her fingers dance across the keys,
Creating perfect melodies.
Next to her, I sit young and eager
To please my loving and patient teacher.
She coaches me on how to place my hand.
How lucky am I to call her Grandmommy Anne!