untitled poetry piece
Sonder Spotlight: a piece by Doyel
How was it ever my fault,
When I didn’t even know
That behind that door,
Lurked a vault of horror below?
You blame me again and again,
For a wound that still brings me pain
It shattered my childhood, stole my name,
Yet you insist it’s just a forgettable tale?
The traces of his touch remain,
Like deep-cut scars on a tree in pain.
And when I recall his hands on me,
Rage roars like tides in a moonlit sea.
He made me loathe my very skin,
Even my own scars couldn’t erase him.
I don’t know if I’ll love myself again,
Or if anyone will see the weight I bear within.
Now when I meet his eyes once more,
It’s not fear, but fury that soars.
I dream of pinning his gaze in place,
Watching as his own screams embrace.
Yet piece by piece, it drowns me still,
Each time I’m forced to relive this ill.
Some nights, I’m lost in a sea of guilt,
Other times, trapped in a castle of filth.
Even as my own turn me to blame,
As if I had chosen this cruel game.
But they will never see the way he tore—
For they refuse to name his sin anymore.
I’m Doyel, a poet of love, longing, suffering, and survival. My words unravel devotion, trace the ache of absence, and echo the resilience of femininity. I write of hearts that break and endure, of wounds that speak, of a love that lingers beyond time.
-Doyel