Scapegoat of Your Brokenness
I found this poem on Pickle-osophy. It is written out of the pain of an abusive church situation, but reflects quite vividly much of what I feel, reflecting on the abuse I suffered in my marriage.
Too long you played your games inside my head
Made me the scapegoat of your brokeness
Milked my raw pain to cream your comforting
Named your needs mine then blamed my neediness.
You took the meek of my fragility
As your strength’s proof, let loose to hold my heart
You scorned the naked shape of what I am
While silk-shot ego dressed your every part.
I was the target of displaced self-hate
While you swam, swan-like, forwards toward day
Trapped in your shade, I cowered in the dark
While your voice mocked me, “Come on out to play!”
O, how your callous laughter broke on me
Like acid waves, to etch into my mind
My stark unloveliness, proved by unlove.
And, all the while, you told me you were kind.
Was this your mercy? Mercy to yourself,
Dismembering my trust to patch your soul,
So that the mirror of your self-regard
Could show yourself exquisite, clean and whole.
