My Magic Box Poem by Deborah Ashdown

When people look into my magic box, they see it is empty.
Little do they know!

It holds all my dark secrets and nightmares.
I have put them all on hold.
I will deal with hem one by one, until I am old.

The thing is I don't know where to start.
Do I start with rape, torture, or the pain in my heart?
Am told the begining is a usually a good start.
So that's just where I went, to try and part.

I dealt with my mum first.
She beat me, tortured me, even took my god damn virginity.
Mum is just a word to me, a person who only gave birth to me.
When I was old and strong enough to stand on my own two feet,
I told her what I thought of her, with words ever so neat.
I then wiped her from my memory and emptied her from my magic box!

Next was partner of fourteen years and father to our children.
He raped me, played games with my mind, held a gun to my head.
I thought I was dead.
He gave me no choice, I upped and left.
My kids were affected so bad.
I was gone, he turned to drink.
His liver packed in.
He now lays in the grave-yard, dead.
I wiped him from my memory and emptied him from my magic box.

Last but not least was the death of my grand-parents.
They both died of cancer and suffered immensely.
I was with them to the end, feeling their pain, tears of sorrow.
Knowing they will not be with me to-morrow.
I visit them by their graveside, I chat to them, some-times cry, so much sorrow still inside.
Am sure the grief will ease in time, as I keep their memories in my mind.
I have wiped the cancer from my memory and emptied it from my magic box.

My magic box is now empty.
No more nightmares of which there have been plenty.

My mind and my magic box are two of the same.
They are both now empty of sorrow and pain,
Only to be filled up again.