breasts, once touched til my heart
was RAW-
please stop-
flimsy layer of lace no shield,
now sway, stretched with
nurturing
those little red lips
those closed eyes
small hands clutched close
how can i hate these breasts, still?
stomach, once held sucked in a constant POPULARITY
contest
now squishes out, having won 3 times
-MAMA-
but i had no mama to help me push these
little ones out
where was she, then,
and now?
no was meaningless.
hands felt helpless
now cradle sweet, sweaty palms.
voice left powerless
now sings lullabyes
and kisses boo-boos away.
old body, ragged cavern of hate
(don't look, don't want, don't touch)
new body, birth-scarred victorious
nursing love and milk
wombing body and soul
turned inside OUT.
linking with emily and the other imperfect journey-friends on the way
14 comments:
it's so hard to comment on this my friend, i'm just speechless. you are beautiful. He is merciful. love you dearly. thank you for sharing your pain, your cries, your story.
so sad what happened to you (i work with kids that have been abused) it should never happen to anyone but...it is also the body that brought you those wins...and in that i will smile.
I read another blogger's story of childhood abuse this week, and about the depression that still dogs her today. I thought of you, and this road you are walking, and so many who are scarred from this horrible crime, and I want the abusers to have millstones hung around their necks and throw them into the depths of the sea, or worse. (And that's probably not helpful to you.)
This is hard to read. It makes me angry. Yet it declares beauty from the ashes... and that is grace.
I love the redemption that sounds so clearly in this piece. You are beautiful, and these words say it so loud and clear. Thank you for sharing such tender places with us.
So difficult to read...but I understand the need for you to heal this way.
"having won three times" ... "voice left powerless now sings lullabyes" ... YES!! my tears rejoice at this taste of REDEMPTION, GLORIFICATION, FATHER-HOME. amen!
Beauty for ashes, and the oil of joy for mourning. Keep writing and being washed clean. I'm so sorry you had to suffer. xo
i rarely am without words, but this one swallowed me up... how you write about something so utterly painful, and turn it into an offering of praise... how you do this... it is him, and he shines so bright in you. do you know this? he does. you are so loved. this world is so hard. but you are so loved. xoxo
Beauty for ashes, indeed. You, dear Misty, are a triumph of God's grace. Never, ever stop telling yourself this.
what God-breathed timing. i read this after struggling last night once again with the sensitivities left from abuse. i loved how you tied in motherhood because that again is something i can relate to, this body turned inside out. thank you.
I have no words..
I feel though , that your longing to know a mother's love and protection and comfort is perhaps a deeper wound?
especially in light of how you feel as a mother. how it then makes you realize the missing even more, makes you realize how you could never be and it adds to the pain, no?
you are so very strong and courageous and beautiful.
this piece is breath-taking Misty. I'm so glad of this beauty dug from ashes. thank you for faithfulness to write it down :)
much peace.
This brought tears to my eyes, I have been here too...you are so brave to write about it.
Post a Comment