Cages or Wings, Poems from Life's Journey

By Rachel Crawford

Cages or Wings is a collection of poetry, derived from life’s journey through childhood, sexual abuse, grief, love, and loss of self. Deeply personal, intentionally raw, Cages or Wings shows that life can push us to our breaking point and yet can free us at the same time. My hope for this work is that it will help at least one person face themselves and the struggles life puts them through!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9781662473432

Book preview

Redemption

There are no shortcuts to redemption!

You have to weather the storm.

Feel the pain.

Put in the work.

For redemption is never free,

But a landing pad where we all long to be.

A way home, safe and sound, to be content with self.

Redemption is a gift we long to give ourselves and others at the end of the day!

But redemption is never free to anyone indeed.

What the Hell Kind of Man Must You Be?

My fragile youth became invisible the day you forced yourself down on me.

Breath hot against my face, your sweat falling on my skin.

Wondering where on earth is my God when you committed this sin?

Still just a baby, no woman yet to see.

What the hell kind of man would take this from me?

Power and force are what you taught me, trust may now never be in me.

What the hell kind of man must you be?

Take a little girl, break her will and splendor.

Wonder over the years just how much you remember.

Do you remember my tears or the blood you made come?

Do you remember all these years that my head spun?

Do you remember all the time I would run from life ’cause of fear caused by you?

Do you remember all these things ’cause I certainly do?

What the hell kind of man must you be?

Not a man at all, that’s what I see!

Little girl couldn’t run free.

Little girl terrified of the big man she sees.

Little girl’s dreams shed from the force of your hand.

Little girl’s tears flow no more, crawled back inside, now living in this made-up hollow world.

What the hell kind of man must you be?

Take my childhood so I’d never find me.

To ruin so many pure hopes and dreams.

To force steel where there used to be so much love in me.

Shadows of my former youth plague my mind indeed!

Tell me, what kind of man must you be?

Not a man at all is what I see!

Damn

Here lies the little five-year-old girl who remembers feeling your force.

Here lies the little girl who bled from your actions with no remorse.

You broke her and turned it all into lust.

Here lies the little girl who was once filled with trust.

Here lies the little girl broken, battered, and bruised.

Here lies the little girl who had big hopes and dreams, you ripped them away with no memories to be seen.

Now as a grown-ass woman completely confused.

I saw children, love, and happiness in my life.

Now all I see is my negative strife.

The grown-ass woman in me has loved, but only women just like you, but who rape different parts of me than you.

You raped me of my childhood and body, they rape my heart and mind even as deep as my soul.

Where does the little girl go when no trust has grown?

When love is lust, and lust is love.

Still with absolutely no damn trust!

Torn

I am torn between my dark past and my bright future.

I am torn between being cold and opening up.

I am torn between the woman I am and the woman I want to be.

I am torn between the child who is needy and the woman who has her own.

I am torn between the insecurities that fuck with my head and the confidence that lives within my soul.

I am torn between being hidden and wanting to be seen.

I am torn between speaking up and saying too much.

I am torn between what my heart wants and what my heart needs.

I am torn, bare, naked, fighting the demons inside of me!

Toy Soldier

You gave me peace in a lifetime of war.

I now see that my battle has only just begun, with no peace to ever again be seen.

I am only human made of flesh and bone.

I am strong, stand with my head held high.

Sure of my feelings and of my soul.

This lifetime of war has personified the fact that I alone will be in this battle.

Any chance of peace in my life was taken