by CASAI survivor HW
It was heavy this millstone I wear round my neck.
Back braking, heart aching, losing all bets
It was scratchy and rough and always so cold.
But hidden, forbidden to show you my load.
I received it in secret, sentence without trial
Unattractive to many, seen without style.
Picked up accidently, given when harmed,
Received by harsh hands, I was unprotected, unarmed
I wore it for years, until I understood this
That millstone around me was not mind, but his
So I carried this millstone but it was never mine
Now I’m sending it back, for this was their crime.