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8 years ago

Victoria K.   

My name is Victoria Kelly.  I am so delighted and excited that I have completed my poetry book!  This book describes my survival from sexual abuse.  I was incested by my father from infancy until my escape from his power over me at 21.

This book is a dream come true for me!  I have read my poems in public before sharing with others and Breaking the Silence of Violence.  I read my first poem Who's A Prisoner at a Take Back The Night event in Duluth MN in 1986.  The response there was so overwhelming.  After I read the poem I received an unbelievable amount of women coming up to me and hugging me through tear-filled eyes telling me how much they could relate and identify with the words and emotions they knew we had in common. 

I had the same poem published in the W.H.I.S.P.E.R. (Women Hurt In Systems of Prostitution Engaged in Revolt) and OAP (Organizing Against Pornography) newsletters.  I also had my poem The Story of Annette published in the MINED Journal: A publication by and for people with mental illness and emotional disorders. 


I have been a panel member and spoke at sexual assault conferences presenting information as a sexual abuse/assault survivor.  I became a THRIVER when just mere survival was not enough!

My writing and artwork was a gift that kept me from going into total insanity.   It was an outlet of all the pain I held inside my body, mind and soul.  The 20th of August I will have 24 years off of drugs and alcohol.  I also have overcome the continuous feeling of wanting to die and of doing self harmful behaviors.


Thanks for your time, Victoria R. Kelly


8 years ago

You may republish this poem as long as you give me credit for it and list my contact info:




Who’s a Prisoner?


Do you know what it’s like


To feel protected


Only in the presence


Of closed shades


And locked doors?


And even then at times feel unsafe?




Daddy walks around


Going wherever he may please…


I once was his prisoner,


  Yet he still holds the keys.




The law says he can’t harm me


And the time goes slowly by.


Do they know the torture that’s still present


With every tear I cry?




I can’t tell them how much


It hurts me


To know they let him roam.


Do they know I’m still imprisoned


In a place I should call home?




The law was made to protect me


And yet it’s so unfair.


The victim waits and cries for justice


As abusers roam and breathe the air.

8 years ago



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