Life Worth Living

Life
Worth living-
Your Life
Worth mending-
U are not forgotten
Or alone-
Together we share...
The same throne
A masterpiece we are/ the Lord within Our hearts
Days Of Agony
Nights of Abuse
Continuous moments-broken and used
The time has come/ its over
Its done-
To walk away alive...
Is for what we strive
With Gods Hands Over Us_
We will survive
If ur doubtful/of Gods Grace-
U can Find Peace Like I have
In the midst of addiction
Where I found my get away/ away from
All the moments underneath- underneath someone who believed I was beneath... Beneath them and so much more! I was called names/raped/abused/ in the streets is where I used... It got me no where/ until Now- where I found my peace - on my knees is where I earned my crown
So look above! There is Love- its not as far as u think' u are Beautiful/strong/and Unique Don't give up/because If I would of/ where would I Be?
On ur knees
Began To Pray- He is in ur Midst
And He Loves u today ..
Tomorrow
Next week
He is there when u feel weak
No man Can
Take U from Him-
No Addiction can trap u where u stand
As Long as U call on Jesus/ there is nothing u can't do:) trust me I know-Im simply another u

Submitted by author Sylvia Kaylin Hart

I should have said this; a poem by a survivor

By Anonymous
 
I should have said this
a long time ago,
something bad happened
that you didn't know.
There is a reason
I couldn't say,
the terrible pain
that was caused that day.
It happened so fast
and before I knew,
I had no control
and did all I could do.
It wasn't that
I didn't want you to stay,
It just felt like that memory
would not go away.
It wasn't right
and it didn't take long,
for everything in my life
to start to go wrong.
Trying to make
that memory fade,
caused me to make
all the choices I made.
What happened to me
its usually the same,
begins with the blame
and continuing shame,
Focused on forgetting
as the years went by,
It's no wonder I crumbled
and didn't mind if I died.
There are still times
I think its my fault,
it's so hard to accept
that kind of assault.
Just as damaging
the things I do miss,
it took away love
and the intimate kiss.
Alone and not knowing
which way to go,
controlled by these thoughts
because its someone you know.

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In a whisper; Survivor poetry

This guest post was written by Susanne.
She writes:
I never saw myself as a survivor. Really. It's kind of absurd that I am at this whole survivor point of my life. You asked me what I want others to know. I want them to hang in there. If two of us have a broken wing can fly if we hold onto each other. That's what I want my message to be. 

I ranted to the silence

and I waited...

There was no answer; no knock on the door

I wailed...

Again, there was silence

I cried, pleaded, begged...

Still, the silence

Then,

when I was silent you spoke...

in a whisper

You remembered me

I whispered back

You answered...

As gentle as a kiss

a whisper answered my rage,

hope was borne

in the quietness of the stillness

You saw my pain,

and you answered

in a whisper

Sin - A poem by a guest blogger

This poem was submitted by guest blogger

By Terri Turrell

You used to be a silent, deadly ill;
black cancer cells embedded in my brain.
An aneurysm guaranteed to kill;
death by degrees, but then I was insane.
The brainwashed bride who trusted, so intense.
Your claim I was to blame made perfect sense.

Perfection loses weight and flutters hands,
grows apprehensive, darting eyes, tense face.
Accepting fault holds hands with understands,
to disagree is not perfection's place.
Examples underline, force feed, conceives.
Perfection fails again, Bad Bride believes.

Your cancer crawled beneath my flesh and fed
like maggots crawling underneath my skin,
the Bastard's Bride; by then already dead,
agreed she should be punished for her sin.
Malignant greedy tumors need to eat;
how sick is that? The Perfect Wife looks beat.

Incised by knife, sliced life and death away,
the Bride escapes and everybody cheers.
Twenty years of nightmares, night and day.
She screams alone but everybody hears.
Love comes and goes, but never trust. Twice fooled ?
The cancer's gone, but she remains well-schooled.

Gravestones graze my fingers as they tilt,
my wings pinned by the sharp rap - rapping knock.
And I these many years consumed by guilt,
can smell your cancer long before you talk.
How odd, I find no time to let you in.
The Blushing Bride goes by the name of Sin.

The graveyard soil clings damp upon my face,
so many years I've lived as though I'd died.
Today I'm finally cured, let life replace
the maggots that no longer grow inside.
I forward your new letters, all unread,
to a folder I named "Spiders" in my head.

No bitter pill, no fear, no power yours;
I trust, I love, I laugh, look Ma, no scars !!
And you stuck in a room with spidie spoors;
But I don't need no specimens in jars,
It's not revenge that makes this moment sweet,
but life itself, the challenge that I meet.

The work was originally posted online two years ago. The author submitted the poem here to help reach other survivors. Would you like to blog in support of other survivors? Find out more about the work that we welcome from guest bloggers.