A Beautiful Beginning

Hey all, I’ve turned another one of my poems into a song. Here’s why:

I am a survivor of abuse and I want to turn the pain from that around into something good. I am starting a project soon, with help, in which I am going to try and promote awareness of abuse, and try to help break the stigma so more people find their voices. I have a meeting next week to plan the process of the project. So, first step for me; in order to play my part in helping break stigma, I am officially “coming out” as an abuse survivor with this song. I am safe, loved and happy now 🙂 🙂 But here’s my song to help others find their voice too. Be free and let you love yourself… and if anyone wants more info on the project I’m doing, just ask 🙂
Thank you for listening, and thank you Clare and Georgia for being such fabulous singers in this.



Song – I Am a Survivor

Okay, so I turned one of my poems into a song (don’t know if this counts…feel free to remove if not!!) I find turning poems into songs very therapeutic and connects my feelings more….


Poems of a survivor

I am a university student… going through the process of memory recovery (long story short..I was a victim of child abuse for a long period of my childhood.) Poetry and writing was a massive escape from me…and I found poems that I’ve written from different ages and I think maybe it’s about time they were shared because I am safe and happy now 🙂 Would like people to maybe see how creativity is an outlet and a coping mechanism, so that they may help themselves… bare with the grammatical issues etc, I’m not pretending to be some amazing poet… but this is the first time I’ll have publicly spoken about this so a big step for me – and this seems the perfect page to share the poems with!! 🙂 Apologies…they’re quite long…

Sanctuary (aged 12)
Once, when I was feeling alone,
Hurt and confused, and lost,
I went in search of a new home,
Where others would describe as lost.

I needed space, freedom too,
A place to go cry alone,
Such places are very few,
Full of faeries and gnomes.

I found my place, my sanctuary,
Away from this cruel, harsh place,
I know that some will call me crazy,
But I don’t care, I’ve got my safe place.

Sheltered by trees, that whisper lulls,
I perch on a rock and cry,
Cry about this world and its fools,
Promise again I’ll give it a try.

My tears that fall, are caught by my friends,
Imaginary they may be,
The nymphs help my sad heart mend,
I smile as I watch the dancing faerie.

I lie on the golden dusty ground,
And tickle the icy stream with my hand,
I listen to the tinkling sound,
And inhale the smells of this land.

The stream washes off the shame I feel,
From events that have scalded my past,
It’s cold but it’s pure, so in this place I feel,
That for now, my sanity will last.

My skin that tickled with dirt from my thoughts,
Of disgrace and hurt that won’t leave,
Is cleansed by this stream, but only for short,
But enough time for me to make believe.

Never disturbed, perfectly idyllic,
This golden haven of peace.
Our world which is such a mimic,
Of what life is, a threatening peace.

This refuge is only where I feel safe,
Events made me distrust this world,
My memories are taken, in this kind place,
And scattered, hidden, or furled.

Eventually though, I have to face,
The real world that hurt me,
I wonder if all the human race,
Search for somewhere to be free?

By human race, I mean of course ‘human’,
Not a body with a soul of the devil,
I have met these ‘humans’,
Which is why I believe in evil.

But my sanctuary, my home, my haven,
Has offered me stability and safety,
A place to reflect, cry, and seek help from Heaven,
So I am strong enough to face reality.

Bye to the faeries, the nymphs, the gnome,
The stream that cleanses the hurt,
I must leave and go back to my home,
Into the blindness, the uncertain murk.

Out of my sanctuary,
Back to reality,
Away from sanity,
Into reality.

Shadow Writer (aged 13)
At night-time, when you close your eyes,
When your body is too weak, and tired,
At night-time, when the night faeries rise,
The shadow writer shall awaken.

Ever wonder how your dreams can tell,
Of times you had long forgotten,
Ever wonder if you were under a spell?
Well you would not be mistaken.

The faeries are the shadow writer’s tongue,
They lie still, and whisper in your sleep,
The faeries lull and keep you strong,
As your memories seep right in.

The shadow writer stays with you,
Throughout your life and listens,
The shadow writer keeps a log too,
Of your life’s sights, thoughts and wonders.

Memories are remembered,
But not always by you,
Memories are rendered,
The shadow writer is true.

The faeries whisper and sing at night,
Bringing back your thoughts from the past,
The faeries stay with you right ‘til it’s light,
And then they kiss and hug you tight.

Away, away, the shadow writer leaves,
Carried by the beautiful faeries sure,
Away, away, your thoughts and dreams,
Lost with the faeries, out to the dawn.

Sleeper, next time you awake, and wonder
Just what that flutter was,
Sleeper, glance right onto your shoulder,
See the whispered songs hanging sure.

The shadow writer shall never cease,
His faeries neither shall leave,
Your dreams that are your past, so please,
Believe in more than just a dream.

Shadow (aged 19)
I would follow you, whichever way you went,
Right behind you, whatever cost is spent,
Obedient servant, tight in your grasp,
Fasten me to you, the unbreakable clasp.

Being your shadow, life was very dark,
I felt blind as you hurt and made your mark,
My voice drained too, only using your words,
It was safer that way, even if it really hurt.

Follow me with cameras, scream in my face,
Who can hurt me next? A twisted race,
But I never hurt you, though you said I did,
I just bottled your pain under a tight lid.

I can follow you back, but you don’t know,
You do not see my strength I’m too scared to show,
But it’s in there, deep down inside of me,
The strength to fight, to win and to be free.

You very nearly had me though,
My strength turned to fear and woe,
I forgot what it felt like to fight,
To be brave and stand for what is right.

It was my lake that reminded me, when I broke,
I only saw the surface, underneath made me choke,
I thought it’d destroy me, the deep dark cold,
Facing the clowns and pain of trauma untold.

I did not understand, why I fell in the lake,
The surface was safer, I could not break,
But I also could not see what hurt so clear,
And how could I recover from a blinded fear?

Being underwater, things hurt but made sense,
A history of abuse broke through my defence,
Stabbed me and shook me, and tore me apart,
But through feeling the pain, recovery could start.

And so the faeries and shadow-writer swiftly returned,
Old friends I’d forgotten, but desperately yearned,
Their solemn promise to save me when I finally let go,
When I was strong enough to burn the misery and woe.

They kept their promise, pulled me safe from the deep,
Not underwater now, they let me calmly sleep,
Soothed my poor head, and held me tight,
Gently reminded me that to cry is alright.

So, you twisted fool, you thought you had me dead,
But I’ve been underwater, a place I no longer dread,
I am stronger than you think I am, so I will break free,
My life as your shadow, has been put behind me.

Hello to the faeries, the nymphs, the gnome,
The stream that cleanses the hurt,
The pain I have left, and now I am home,
Out of the darkness, and the uncertain murk.

Goodbye abuse, goodbye pained sorrow,
For you I have fought and survived,
Now I look forward only to tomorrow,
I’m proud of my past, it’s taught me to thrive.

Phew!!: ) x