“A Living Crucifix”

Her body nude,

facing the dawn.

Her boosom expressed and cut.

Voices silent,

words are loud.

Her soul is as frightened as a newborn child.

Tears and blood distinguised only by their color.

Their meaning screams the same.



Help Me!

Help Me!

But stay away!

Every action from a stranger,

a loved one,

a friend,

adds to the fear.

WHY ME?!!!!

She became a shadow in the closet

Afraid to be seen or judged by others.

Seen by no one as she retreats into the darkness of her memories

Invisioning the silt that has made her impure.



as she scrubs with Ajax

Never erasing the memories of that night.

Unable to move

her body broken.

Her psyche in shambles.

Will she allow herself to be as he wanted her?

A living crucifix.


Michelle Poet

March 2, 2001