Reaching Out the Tiny Window

Time is short.

now shorter still.

I think I won’t,

and yet, I will.

thru this window I grasp at straws.

the Wind just laughs,

I gaze in awe:

who is this girl, woman, child?

I remember when her hair was wild,

her eyes were dark,

wit so sharp!

then she ran-off in the Dark.

I thought she knew

that she’d come back…

But she got lost, the dope, the crack.

she left me here, holding the bag

and now she’s just a tired old hag…

the time it ticks, inexorably by.

look! she laughs, I thought she’d cry!

she’s so happy deep inside,

all the shame seems to have died,

set her free, left her, gone!

light is shining, comes the dawn

eyes now glisten, step firm and sure.


she closed the window,

she found the door.


Author: ST Martin

I am an Artist, Poet and Author. A Survivor of Violent Sexual Abuse and Rape, I have lived thru Severe Domestic Violence, Twenty Three years of Addiction and Alcoholism, Family Dysfunction, Chronic Pain, Dependence on Opioids, and 2 Venomous Snake Bites...I have Been Stabbed, Shot at, Tied to a Tree and Choked Unconscious. A Quarter Horse Rolled on Me, as did a Lawn Tractor. I also Wrecked a Harley into a Tree! I also have PTSD and Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder, and spent my 18th birthday in a Locked Psychiatric Ward. I am so much more than this: I feel like a tiny seed that sprouted in a desert, and now has grown into a Passion Vine. My Art is my Voice, Screaming, Crying, Praying, Loving, Laughing, Healing- all in Riotous Color...

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s