
I thank you for breaking my spirit
So I can grow stronger than ever.
Having witnessed all the tragedies inflicted on the soul and body
Considering everything that’s happened.
---
Desiring a submissive woman
That’s not a sin at all,
When can you go to church tomorrow
To absolve yourself of it.
---
Did the legacy of white supremacy form his thoughts?
Finally, he could rule his own domain.
Taking and demanding, just as
The world had constantly treated him.
---
The champagne gift, poured on my freshly washed winter jacket,
Was from a customer appreciating my hard work.
You did it all in rapid motion,
The gesture I’ll remember for decades.
---
I remember vividly how I broke free
From my abusive father and my mother’s complicit guilt.
Even after my father died, his ego, enforced by food, nicotine, and drink,
She never changed her tune, always protecting his false innocence.
---
Quiet and unseen, I stayed.
Believing the tall tales you spun each day.
Blind to the signs, I hankered for love’s embrace
And ended up retracing my mother’s wounded space.
---
My mother championed this idea wholeheartedly,
convinced, as I was, that only a man
could bestow the greatest value upon a woman.
Perhaps we were both mistaken.
---
Not everyone falls for their game.
There are the good ones out there.
Being a magnet for narcissistic sociopaths,
It makes you question the universe.
---
You think, “Nothing good can happen to me anymore.”
You’re counting down the days until your demise,
Only to realise you’ve always had it all,
Right at your fingertips.
---
Share what you hold dear with your abusers.
This tiny rope strings their desires.
They want to steal your soul.
Regardless of your thoughts.
---
They possess the power and the means,
Their ambition is to rule, forgetting how insignificant they once were,
A feeling someone else placed within them.
They must have witnessed these atrocities at a tender age.
---
Their actions stem from repeating what they’ve seen,
Too complex for young brains to grasp, it would seem.
A single, true core connects them all,
They’ve found themselves where they never should have called.
---
Whether at home or on the streets,
Horrific events unfold daily,
Right before our very eyes and ears,
We grow accustomed to their sights and sounds.
---
It sneaks in like a disease,
Every day, our values erode.
A continual token of the battle
We must confront with all our might.
About the Creator
Moon Desert
UK-based
BA in Cultural Studies
Crime Fiction: Love
Poetry: Friend
Psychology: Salvation
Where wild roses grow full of words...



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