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Survivors Corner

My poetry is me, feeling my heart ache, but smiling anyway because I’m not afraid of it. It is me welcoming the work, leaning into the discomfort, and looking forward to the person I will continue to become- a better, stronger version of myself. Jennifer- RiseUp! Poetry

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Artwork by Elissa

Survivor Poetry



One Day

By Jennifer Stoll

One day something very old happened again....
and again. and again. and again.
It had a propensity for reoccurrence,
and though never welcomed, always let itself in.
One day was many days, was every day.
It chipped away here, chiseled away there-
the medium of a sadistic masterpiece-
and over all of the again. and again. and agains,
it withered me down until I was nothing.
one day is not TOday. One day was yesterday.
And though I don’t often take joy in the death of things, of this,
I cracked a smile.
And that “something very old”
is growing very old,
in a poly-cotton, orange jumpsuit,
behind bars and plate-glass windows- mediums
not quite as easy to manipulate as I. .

Learn The Secrets

Dear Inner Critic

By Melody P. McCarthy

Dear inner critic I feel you less now,
Such as, in writing this down.
I am not afraid anymore
To be creative.
I love this unveiling
Of this lost part of me.

Survivor Message

Thoughts on Poetry Workshops

During the week there are things that can feel like obstacles, but for me, if I can push through and get here, sometimes I know I will be alright. When I’m at home, or anywhere else that things are crazy, I can tap into this collective energy that we have here. The paper and the writing have always been important, but just to look around this room and I can write something down, knowing that it’s safe. We gave each other a safe place. When things are going haywire, I know I can reach for the phone and these women will be here. When you’re not safe outside, it’s a very good feeling.

Thoughts on Poetry Workshops

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