What Makes Me, Me

When your creative

and you see things different

anything can inspire you,

anything can be your muse,

you can hear a plane passing

 most people hear a noise,

but you hear the fluttering

as it passes by

the disruption of the birds

the shutter of your skin

how it makes your hair stand

 on the back of your neck

 how it makes your heart beat

 just a little bit differently

the dogs ears when they perk

the trees blow a little bit harder, you dont see things the same

 like the rest of the world

 does it mean that your smarter

 or does it mean that you

 have a little piece of innocence

that the world has lost

Id like to think it does

 Id like to think that this

this thing we call art

is one of those little lost things God meant for us to have

 from the start

Creativity is my joy

 i find it in everything

from the moment i wake up

till at night when i go to sleep

 even when i talk

 in a normal conversation

 things begin to come out

and flow melodically

rhyming without hesitation

 almost as if i dont know...

maybe i dont know how to speak with out a song in my heart

 through all the pain

through all the tears

 its the only thing

thats kept me going

through all these years

 I guess when youve lived a life

a life like mine

you find joy in every instance

 you find happiness anytime

 living in your head

 becomes your only refuge

unsafe out in the world 

 so when your older

things mellow out

 your head is still a refuge 

your dying to get out

 those things you held inside

 now push forth to the world

all those years

you cried and cried

all those things you held inside

 now beaming out

a beautiful girl awaited inside

inching out yet still unsure

 sharing your song

 but they've no clue

as to the pain you've endured

So now they notice

Now they smile

They call you strong

And like your style

Inside you cry

And scream aloud

When you say strong

You forget I was only a child

These tortured eyes

See things differently

And now that the torture is gone

Even as the memories live on

I see paradise

Simplicity ~ things you dont see

Because all those things

You always had

I worked for

I fought for

To me nothing was ever handed

I have lived through the pain

I have smiled through the tears

And in the end

After fighting all these years

I know in my heart

That nothing is free

And that

That is what makes me

ME!

 

 

Collette Ann Woodruff 8/26/2011

 

Author's Note

I encourage you to read thu to the messages in all of my writings. I have come from a place of sadness and strife, and I do write based on my experiences. I am sure that there are a lot of sad stories out there of young adults and "victims" of childhood abuse, which I was, however, just because I came from there~ does not mean that is the message in my writings. I did survive, not only in body, but thanks to the dedicated work of many, I was able to come out of it with a good life. No one has a perfect life, I am choosing to use my writing as a platform to reach other survivors who may still be struggling to get past their past. A lot of my writing is graphic, so please use discrecion when viewing or sharing, I do not edit it for a multitude of reasons, one being I dont want anyone to feel that I am "crying" over being disciplined~ I want anyone who is struggling to know that there is life after abuse! Thank you!