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Soldier Susan

November 12, 2016

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Many years ago, looking at my tendancy towards martydom in the face of emotional abuse, I wrote this poem. Somehow, this week it feels appropriate to post it.

Soldier Susan
springs forth
to protect
against wounding
against obliteration.

“Quiet,” she says,
“Quiet, there is
nothing
you
can do.

Do nothing, and
maybe, maybe
you will not
be punished.

Seeing
is dangerous:
speaking
brings pain,
wounding,
perhaps death.

Stay quiet.”

“But,” the whisperer wants
to know,
“what about this pain?
How do I become blind
to what I have seen?

How do I change
what I cannot accept?

I must act.”

Soldier Susan says,
“No, no, no, wait!
there is nothing
you
can do
that will not

bring ruin.”

The whisperer trembles
trying to close
her eyes, her mouth,
but heat, words
rush, push
forward,
fill her with straining,
demanding release,
any release.

And now she is
blind and deaf
to all except
the need to
release

the pain, the vision

2 Comments leave one →
  1. Bogda permalink
    November 13, 2016 6:47 am

    😢😍

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