Written by Winston Allamby
Held captive waiting for the utterance
Will it be gentle, light, refreshing as geranium
Or wet sand- weighty
anchoring to a chain of pain?
Will it push open a door
into my imagination
summon courage and show a future?
Or wipe away the traces of belief
with the regular offer of everlasting despair?
Will the sentences stich
the patch work of pain together
and embroider my edges with threads
Will it be a delivery wrapped in
compassion fatigue and resentment
Or a demonstration of skill
Lived experience and thought
Will I be brave to interrupt the cordial tone
If laced with triggers
politely – regulated and be the arbiter
of adjectives and adverbs used about me?
Taking back control
Within without permission.