Survivor: Sun and Moon

I was a carefree child who played in the warmth of the sun. But her glow and mine have dimmed. At night, after he has finished with me, the moon sends her light to comfort me. Cold comfort. Still, she guides me now, lighting a pearlescent path for me, tangled and silver like the scars that trace my body, but leading me to freedom. I’ve killed him, and though he took my innocence, he can no longer hurt me. My past, present, and future merge—who I was and who I will become. I am broken, but not destroyed. One day, I may glow again, like the sun.

 

The moon saw sorrow

her tears, silver waves of hope

to light the darkness

 

"Rising Moon," John Constable, c. 1810

Credit Line: John G. Johnson Collection, 1917 Philadelphia Museum of Art

This haibun is a late entry for Colleen Chesebro’s weekly poetry challenge. The prompt words were past and future. Some of you know I’m working on two reference books on rape. So, this. Now back to work for me!

According to the UN Women web site,  worldwide, 1 in 3 women experience physical or sexual violence, most often from an intimate partner.

 

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33 thoughts on “Survivor: Sun and Moon

  1. Until men are no longer encouraged to believe that they are superior beings, that their wives and daughters ‘belong’ to them and they can do whatever they bloody well like with them, this will continue. Exactly the attitude we criticise in Islam—casting the first stone?

  2. This is haunting in its tragedy and yet, there is always hope in an escape. Just will hope she doesn’t get caught! Poor thing and wish the sunshine had never dimmed upon her life.
    The scars are horrific, some may never return to normal life or find a “good” love. My best college friend has been depressed, suicidal and schizophrenic since she was raped at age 19. What she considers even worse was becoming pregnant from her one attack on our college campus.
    You may edit this, if you think it will offend someone. My Mom signed as her parent because Pat insisted and fully believed her parents would think She had caused the assault on her virginity. They died never knowing of her eliminating the evidence.
    (This makes me want to cry all over again. What parents somehow do in their cold attitudes?!)
    My Mom and I are complicit, I suppose, in the cover-up. Patrice and I are forever bound by this tragic occurence.

    • Thank you, Robin. I think you had told me about this before. If someone is offended, then they probably shouldn’t be reading my blog. 🙂 It is very sad that your friend felt she wouldn’t be believed and that in fact, her parents would blame her. I think she was fortunate to have you and your mom!

  3. Pingback: Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge # 36 – HAPPY & SAD – Colleen Chesebro ~ Fairy Whisperer

  4. Merril. I admire a writer unafraid to TELL IT and you do this here. Your ability as a writer elevates even sadness making the choice and sound intoxicating even as tragedy and anger are the bones beneath your nimble art of wordsmith. I don’t know what to feel … maybe everything? Is it possible? Your work beckons things deeply lain, you have that piercing skill dear poetess

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