Who Am I?

(Trigger warning: this poem alludes to child abuse)

Who I am
if not a harbinger –
eyes turned to the sky
diligent?

And what defines me
beyond calm in a crisis
action-taking, firmly
responsible?

No bystander here
I will fight injustice
free the wrongfully accused
capable

Driven
driving
fearless
awake

No sleeping
when danger presents
turmoil relentless
nightmares persist

Visions of uprising
and natural disasters
filling my dreams –
I grow weary

I cry, but no one is listening
the bustle outside reflective
of lives being lived
while I cower

Worried that the sky will fall
and I will be too torn
too bruised
to rise to the occasion

That child I coddled
now questioning my motives
that woman I saved
scoffing at my delusion

I am neither saint nor saviour
I am just a woman/child running
from the drunk under the table
still trying to define herself
as anything but his prey.

(Drawing is my own)

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VJ

Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

21 thoughts on “Who Am I?”

      1. I think strength is often hard to feel in oneself but can be measured by ones accomplishments and ability to carry on and thrive in other areas such as your art and poetry – always beautiful and thought provoking. You are strong.

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