“No matter how chaotic it is, wild flowers still spring up in the middle of nowhere”- Cheryl Crow
These poems are from a darker period of my life which God has graciously delivered me through and healed me from, however, I share them for the sake of others who may need to read them.
Ghost In My House
By Sandee Lloyd
Like the seed tufts of a dandelion, on the wind pulled apart, blown away and scattered. Like a mirror thrown to the floor, the shards trampled, shattered. Torn apart inside, two poles taking stance, and thus begins a sick and evil dance.
There’s a ghost who lives in me. She is just a teenage girl. She wanted to be cherished, that’s all. But she found the world to be such a frightening place and so she began to build a wall.
She became quite demanding, wanting her way and acting her age. She was fighting for her life. Her anger filled me up with rage.
And the woman who I am, had to take a stand, couldn’t be held down anymore. I was straining to grow, trying to let go, but of what? I wasn’t even sure. That ghostly young girl has spent twenty-some years haunting my house, and shedding her tears.
The fierceness of the woman trying to get free, was hurting her more, and it was killing me.
There ensued a battle, a fierce tug-of-war between the warrior woman, and the young spirit-girl.
The woman was only trying to be free and grow strong, but that haunting voice inside her told her something was wrong.
Beaten, battle-weary the girl must be heard yet. Twenty years of crying. There is something she must get.
In exhaustion I collapsed, knowing the pulling had to stop or else I wouldn’t make it through alive. So I stopped fighting her and instead came face to face with our agonies, determined to survive.
I began to search the halls, I began to open doors, look into corners, no more pacing the floors.
And I found her crouched behind her wall, that girl who was me, and I took her in my arms and held her tight. Together we trembled as I held her in exhaustion and we surrendered in our loneliness and fright.
We grieved our pain and years of shame and thought that it was over, then the realization came; that we were not alone, myself and I, there was another ghost. He was lingering by.
“Oh why are you here? Can’t you leave me alone? Please leave, you have no right. What you did to me was wrong”.
“You made my spirit a slave and you’ve kept me in this prison. Your enticements were like honey but all you gave was poison”.
“Oh he sneered and he laughed while he twisted the knife”. I’ll be staying right here, thanks, I’m a part of your life”.
“That was then, this is now and I don’t want you here.” But he only pretended that he did not hear.
Oh what could I do, Lord, what could I do, but bring my poor wounded spirit to You? I know I can’t conquer ghosts wrought by his egregious sin, so Lord please enter here and let healing begin.
Copyright STLloyd 2004
Through a Glass Darkly
You don’t see
What secrets hide
Inside of me
I age, I change
Oh, that you see!
But inside, buried
Lies my struggle
Just to be.
Light and rage
If you won’t show the truth to others
Then what earthly good are you to me?
The wounds un-healing
The things I’m feeling
Sores still seeping
Tears still weeping
The shadows creeping over me.
Surrounded by a sea of others
Isolated in their midst
In silence I witness
His putrid hunger
The depravity of his lurid stare
At a little girl, barely thirteen
As she frolics, unaware.
I watch him lust at her innocence
And white fury engulfs me
At his public audacity.
A silent scream rises in my throat
I taste blood and feel the urge to retch
I coil tightly, wanting to spring
Claw out the offending eyes,
Draw attention to his crime.
But I don’t want her to know, and feel the shame.
I want to rush and shield her from his view,
Meet his gaze and challenge what I see;
I want him to know that I am grown, and I know, I SEE.
But instead I turn and flee.
She was only a child
Just being a child
Why couldn’t he just let her be?
In that sweet face
Oh how does he see
A vile enticement, so obscene?
Suddenly the noise
The presence of others
Is all just too much to bear.
I cover my eyes and my ears, and find a quiet place
But I do not forget
In her mirror the ugliness can’t be hidden.
She has passed through the looking glass from innocence into knowledge
And she can never return.
Copyright STLloyd 2007