The Abused Child's Refuge: Imagination

compound complex

Scarce in my youth had feet touched on earth,
Intent, so I was, to vanquish all that held me
Painfully fast to misery in flesh and a sorrow
Cutting deep since my first breath an age ago.

Floating above the masses beneath - this with
a sure aim - never did I want what chance had
wrongly conceived for one like me, I who was
housed in those haunted, dread realms below.

breakfast of champions

Wow.

Are you describing imagination, or a dissociative state? In the context of abused children, I think the latter.

Either way, I like it

compound complex

Thank you, BOC, for your welcomed comments.

Writing poetry that links childhood trauma to my current healed state is, somehow, both objective and painfully subjective. In my dotage, I'm able to put an imaginative yet positive spin upon what had once been a crushing emotional burden for this guy. I can now distance myself psychologically from what I used to feel would do me in.

Blessings,

CoCo Feels Better Now

LV101

I love this --- like you're on Mars w/an objective view of your childhood reality, maybe. Like scar tissue we can never forget but the acquired feeling of indifference is so soothing.

You're gift of writing could really help other victims of abuse.

compound complex

You are very wise, LV101; I am from Mars.

Strange that you should land upon that so adroitly! I never really thought my off-center perspective could be of any help. Thanks for putting that idea in my head! !

With gratitude,

CoCo of the Red Planet

LV101

Well, thank you CoCo of Planet Red//ooops of Red Planet. Perspective is everything --- you get an A+ and your poetry/writing (gift) used to heal/conquer abuse is inspiring and it's your way out. Wish I had that gift -- I shop - LOL! Seriously, if facing reality would have only been that much FUN! Pain, suffering does miraculous things (seems endless) on the soul and really changes our heart's desires.

Miracles from Mars --- the world needs them!

compound complex

Good points, LV, regarding life's suffering and our heart's desires.

I still have passion, but it's been tempered by the maturity and mellowing out that comes with growing older. One can look back with a level of detachment at one's own past sorrows. Those individuals possessing a modest grasp of self-expression can, as you so kindly acknowledged, speak on behalf of those who feel similarly but, perhaps, haven't the words.

Many thanks,

CoCo Rouge

doofdaddy

Wow! That is a poished piece!!

I came from a "haunted" childhood and can remember being obsessed as an 8yr old with a poem about a lonely bear in a cage who waited for the night and moonbeams to stream into his cage. All night he would ride the freedom of the moonbeams but was doomed to return to his cage in the morning. Only as an adult do I appreciate the depth of that poem... Thanks CoCo.

compound complex

Your comments mean a lot to me, doofdaddy! Thank you very much.

I love the tale about the bear riding the moonbeams to freedom, yet - O, the irony! - the inevitable, forced return to his jail. Incredible how we are transfixed by such as kids, and the fascination continues on into adulthood.

I really appreciate your sharing this bit of information.

CoCo's still learning

BabaYaga

Ha! "Miracles from Mars" indeed! You are quite the healer, Dearest CoCo. A beautiful and poignant piece, my Dear.

And Doofdaddy! How marvelous to see you!

Hugs to all,
Baba.

The Abused Child's Refuge: Imagination

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