Kite by Georgia Udas

Did he ruin me? 
Or till the soil 
And make it rich 
So I can grow 
Magnificent flowers 
 
I crack my whip 
And creatures 
Come scurrying 
From rents in my mind 
In an orderly line  
 
It’s insane how good 
A raw a beetroot tastes 
Pulled from the earth 
Like quivering meat 
From a battle enemy’s chest  
 
I crouch in the garden 
His abuse ricochets through time 
And gives me a line to write 
And to climb 
And fly my kite

Georgia Rose Udas is a writer from Murwillumbah, Northern Rivers, NSW. As well as writing, she has a background in Visual Arts. She is happily married and lives with her 15 year old daughter Shivani and Shivani’s cat Madeline. She writes about her past experiences, infusing her work with beautiful images that have come to her at times of heart and mind pain from the effects of Complex Trauma.