CHELL'S POETRY II The poetry on this page was written by a survivor during the course of her healing journey. Due to the very nature of sexual abuse, some of these may be very triggering to some survivors so take care of yourself. All of the poetry on this page is copyrighted and must not be used in any form without the express consent of the author. If you have a question or a comment about this poetry, you can email Chell at fastface_fellow@yahoo.com Stolen In Time... Last week, I saw someone who remembered me... we started to talk, and I realized she remembed me... before him.. before his hands... before even my hair hurt... She remembered a me, who could not lie, who did not know how... who's eyes were a window-- Not blinds... She remembered me, Before virginity was a question.. She remembered me, before I was stolen in time. I wish she knew me Now Maybe she could tell me who I used to be... I want to remember me... "Me" before him... before it... I want to remember how that felt... Yesterday I saw a movie... two friends... planning a wedding... a friendship marred by-- time... distance...and circumstance... Weddings---Stress---And life... the things that bring out our best... And our worst... angry words... Maybe they have been building for a lifetime... or maybe a friendship can only survive so much... And watching this movie... I started to cry... Not for the characters--- But for me... For the friendship... that did not always survive... For the damage... For what was stolen in time... And I realized... "Me" doesn't mean what it used to... "Me" doesn't feel like it used to... "Me" is just another thing, Stolen in time... March 2002 A war inside... I am twenty-five, female, strong-willed, and not so naive anymore... I was nineteen, female, strong-willed, and self-blinded... He was almost forty-- self-serving, mean-spirited, and a predator....and he was my friend... and I am a prisoner.... He is free, I was prey...I was small... I am not so strong anymore... I wish I had inflicted suicide on him... instead of my soul.... He is free. spring 2000 When... when he touched me, i thought i should pray for his forgiveness for his weakness and for mine.... when he violated me, i thought i should die for God did not want me and he did not care when he was not punished, i thought God could not kill him enough times to make up for what he did to me and to all the others he touched with his life when he survived, and i did not want to i hated him and life for laughing at me when i was finally permitted happiness i did not enjoy it i looked for the flaw for the unseen and even for the unforgivable But today when he came around that corner my spirit quivered just a little and then i kissed my son and i walked on and it did not ruin my day..... when he dies i will not cry and maybe i will say that silent thank you but i am not sure i will march in the parade i am not sure anymore that i will cheer for when a human allows themselves to be evil i do not believe God cheers.... and today i cared about that.... july 2002 When you were here... sometimes i see you, i hear you-- its not just remembering (i'd recognize that) its being reminded--- held by the vision sometimes its being gripped-- and ripped apart by your absence, its being strangled by that harsh thought... Now your gone, you were perfect... did you realize that i saw perfection in you, when you were here. no one ever really saw you, ever really knew you, ever really cared. but when you were here, i cared. i still care, i will always, still care. your eyes did what most can't, they read souls, and wrote novels--- with a single glance. Did anyone ever bother to read you? Bookends? Remember? Remind me? I never saw a time that someone read my voice or the ringing telephone like you... when you were here-- when you were real, when you were my friend, i love you i love us... i miss you... winter 1993 Friendship's Mirage of course, you say! Time drew us into spaces-- our spaces, our times... and in love we grew--- yes, we grew. You were stronger, so much stronger than me. and in desperation-- I tried to be strong for us. I could not be the weaker of us--- Nor was I strong enough to be the stronger... so I shadowed and being the non opinionated one, and i was You taught this shadow well. are you "my" friend? I have a friend? and in that shadow-- i grew strong. i grew loving. and i grew cautious... But i stood beside you-- Rather than following any longer... oh, how i love you--- how i care--- time, distance, and extreme circumstances-- threw us into circles, that we could not prepare for, that stopped leaving our spaces alone. Are you still my friend? my mirage is no longer strong enough to care... winter 1993