Ink Spells Truth

I stand, by fog
surrounded, see
me across the room.

Curled in the corner
bent over white paper
afraid, pen in hand.

Knife under pillow,
truth frozen in fear
What is going on.

Memory comes,
write it down
use the pen.

No, don’t place
the awful truth
outside yourself.

Use the knife!

Cut the hand holding
the pen, ink would
make real this thing.

Better bloods random
pattern, than ink
that spells the truth.

-Betsy-
February 1987

 

Back to Surviving Childhood Sexual Abuse

Graphics and content are copyrighted© 1999 by Betsy Foster, except as otherwise noted. HTML and scripting are copyrighted© 1999 by Edward Hall and GreyLight Internet. Last updated on .