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What You See

by Candice Brazil | Dec 8, 2025 | 10,000 Matchsticks, Poetry | 0 comments

What You See…

When you first lay eyes upon me,
You might label me a queen,
At first, I’ll seem without a flaw,
As if the life I live’s pristine.
You’ll meet a woman that is kind,
Living a life peacefully serene,
“I must have her,” you’ll say to yourself,
Ignorant of everything unseen.
Unaware of how I was used,
So frequently it’s become routine.
Ignorant of how the misery,
Changed me into machine.

When you first converse with me,
You’ll detect my intellect,
Discovering a woman full of wisdom,,
Thinking I’m someone to respect.
Intuiting truth in the words I speak,
Concluding my ideas correct,
“I must have her,” you say to yourself,
Ignorant of all that’s imperfect,
Oblivious of my shattered heart,
A withering soul, wretched and wrecked,
Unsuspecting of assaults that have,
Left me a derelict.

When you first hold me in your arms,
You’ll feel adored in my embrace,
With a stunning body next to you,
Wrapped in sexy lace,
Curves that awaken a fire in you,
I’m wild with a dash of grace
“I must have her,” you’ll say to yourself,
Clueless of all you’ll soon wish to replace,
Unacquainted with my demons,
Hiding just below my face.
Unaware of all my damaged pieces,
That I’m trying to replace.

Then, you’ll get to know me,
You’ll discover you were wrong,
You’ll find all the flaws that I’ve hidden,
Revealing how I don’t belong,
Discovering all you failed to see,
Wondering how we even get along,
“I must leave her,” You’ll say to yourself,
Unaware my afflictions made me strong,
Oblivious to the meaning of the words,
Behind my song,
Unaware there’s magic in the intimacy,
For which I long.

Written by Candice

Author. Artist. Healer. Survivor. After awakening from what I call my Trauma Coma, I realized that nearly everything I believed about myself was shaped by unresolved trauma. Today, I help others heal from the invisible wounds of incest and betrayal trauma. Holey House was born from my own healing journey. It’s a sacred space where souls with holes can transform their pain into purpose, their wounds into wisdom, and their shame into light. From holey to holy, this is where we remember who we were before the wound.

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