Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: sexual abuses

  • My Song Of Agony

    My Song Of Agony

    My Song Of Agony

    this is my song of agony
    I wish I had understood before
    my fault is my fragility and vulnerability
    being like a child who had never been protected
    as a consequence of all the abuses
    I had to endure in my life
    without any protection

    to be loved and protected is a delight I will never know
    I am not any more broken inside
    because I have been already shattered to fragments of myself
    I am not any more a whole creature
    being always cynically exploited by others
    the only things to keep me alive is my poetry
    which is part of my body and soul

    I am poetry, and it is the purest part of me
    poetry for pure and naive souls
    poetry for creatures who are honestly in love
    a pure love that doesn’t betray
    love is not just a short sentence
    fake love is a successful tool to lure a pure soul
    pure love is the most sublime of all feelings
    which should not be used to hurt fragile souls
    souls who never met kindness, love and compassion

    because it is so hard to be me
    I am not just a freaky girl for the sake of being “cool”
    there are traumas and abuses behind my being a “dark romantic” poet
    in an aura of romantic torments and anguishes
    being an exotic flower and an unconventional girl
    the Israeli Jewish girl with “that Italian” accent

    and there is also my loss since two years
    which I still feel a lot
    not having a father is miserable
    not having more chance to have a family
    being lonely and alone
    no love
    no affection
    just the coldness of a cynic society

    this is my song of agony and pain
    living a life made of words, passions and love
    love burns me alive
    love pierces my heart
    I scream in agony
    it is the scream of my bleeding heart
    and all the stars of the universe collide
    merging in a hybrid star
    which is inside my heart

    I cannot stop loving
    I cannot stop dreaming
    a transcendental love
    without reward
    without return.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Stars Fall From The Firmament

    The Stars Fall From The Firmament

    The Stars Fall From The Firmament

    The stars fall from the firmament in a whirling dance
    I want to lose the capability to desire
    I only want to dream of being set free from my passions
    And wander away
    Flying fairy
    Like a butterfly in a garden of violets and lilies
    I live a silent life made of poetry and books
    I communicate with people through my poetry
    The rest of the time, I am silent
    My silence can say many things or absolute nothing
    It depends on the sensibility of the others
    I might appear a cold person because I am timid
    I try to protect myself from men who have so much interest in me
    Interest that I don’t reciprocate
    It is challenging for me to have an enjoyable time outside
    It is like I don’t have any right to take a simple walk
    Being constantly bothered in the streets.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • I Am Made Of Crimson Roses

    I Am Made Of Crimson Roses

    I Am Made Of Crimson Roses

    I am made of crimson roses
    Crimson like the blood that ran down my thighs
    Each time I have been grabbed
    And each time, my body has been exploited
    My body had always been the trophy of a cheap and crazy hunt
    Treated like a wild animal to be brutally tamed and subjugated
    I had to lose my mind
    I had to lose myself
    To survive that ferocity
    My body has always been guilty
    I was the witch to burn for a sin I never committed
    Hence a part of myself died
    Each time it happened
    Like a violent thunderstorm
    Which inexorable dominates the sky with a destructive force
    Being a “female” like I have always been defined
    Following the zoological nomenclature
    I was supposed to obey and fulfil my duties of slave and prey
    Because I was just a docile doll
    My intellect and my soul were useless furnishings
    As my lips are stained with red wine drops
    I realise that I have been a victim and captive of my foolish naivete
    I have not been able to protect myself
    So much desire I had
    To be loved passionately
    Seeking an ethereal love I couldn’t find.
    Esther Racah

  • My Grief

    My Grief

    My Grief
    I lost my father in October 2019
    Having to cope with grief and loss is complicated
    Almost every day, I struggle with my anguishes
    Vulnerable as I am
    Encounters always took away a part of myself
    People never understood me
    Tears run down my face like sparkling gems
    Strange and mysterious they say about me
    Different could be a word that definitely defines me
    All the time, I faced dreadful beings
    Nothing can give me back what I have lost
    Death of a part of myself had been necessary
    I would have loved to fly away for an indefinite time
    How many times I had to suffer and be sad
    A lot of times, my grief fractured me
    Violence destroys everything day after day
    Exhausted, I built my sandcastles
    But I destroyed them afterwards
    Empathy is what they missed when dealing with me
    Eternal love does not exist since everything decays
    Nobody has ever loved me
    Reasons are impossible to understand
    And I can be sure that
    Perhaps I might rely on my dreams
    Exceedingly hurt emotionally and physically
    Disquietingly grief is all that is left in my heart.

    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Like A Porcelain Doll

    Like A Porcelain Doll

    Like A Porcelain Doll

    And it was like in a nightmare
    While I was lying inert on a cold bed like a porcelain doll
    I could not conceive why those things happened for a reason
    Maybe I was too naive to realise such closeness
    Perhaps I was too childish to protect myself
    Letting the submission paralyse my mind

    It never mattered who I really was
    It never mattered what I really desired
    Because the most important thing was social etiquette and fulfilled other’s desires
    I had to embellish myself like a porcelain doll
    I had to smile with my elegant dresses and impeccable makeup devotedly
    Some pretty bow in my long blond hair and a sumptuous dress as a daily routine

    I was empty, and I could not find myself
    Being constantly busy to be submissive and amiable
    Exhausted and broken
    I was never good enough
    And then, I had to lose myself
    Becoming who I was expected to be

    The echo of my silence was loud in my mind
    The only place where I was feeling safe
    Respect and love were remote chimaeras
    The coldness around me was freezing my heart
    My feelings being trapped in a desperate endeavour to be loved
    And trying to piece together scattered fragments of myself.
    Esther Racah

  • The Cold Humiliation

    The Cold Humiliation

    The Cold Humiliation

    The cold humiliation
    The freezing of my body
    My body like a dead leaf
    In pain and humiliation
    Amid blood and shreds
    I wanted to forget
    I tried to wash away the shame
    I never spoke
    The silence was my way to pretend that nothing happened
    And that I deserved it
    As a punishment for my submission
    A silent acceptance of the pain and desecration
    The blood was like the quiet lament of my body
    Violated and shredded in pieces
    Beauty and femininity as frailty
    The desire to be outside a violated body
    The dream to fly far away from this physical world
    The pain became the awareness of low self-esteem
    I’m exposing myself, showing my pain
    My weakness and disgrace are my witnesses
    I’m not afraid of being judged
    Afflicted by mortification
    I was, and I am broken
    Torn to shreds
    The cry of pain is a loud echo
    Which is always inside me.
    Esther Racah

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