Bleeding Through

Mayhem has hit my sister and we all are reeling from it.
It's a bit hard to watch what she does to herself when the memory revives itself.
It's like the demons were cast out, waiting in the shadows to flaunt themselves again.

The right moment came along and here they are.
So as she begins to find her way through this breakdown, meltdown, new life she is molding,
It is causing wounds that have turned to scars in my heart and soul to bleed through.

I noticed when I couldn't sleep all night that there was  a slight tinge, a new hue to the blood seeping through my heart.  It made it's way to my sleeve which is where it used to bleed the most.
This pisses me off, completely!
It is my first clue that I needed to take care of myself.

I didn't get past the dragons lair unnoticed, unscathed.
I caught a blunt thrust from his tail to my head, knocking loose the private files from years gone by.

Exhibit "A" in folder 342 will show the once teenager/slut who couldn't satisfy the constant craving for love.
This particular exhibit shows the shades of gray that over shadowed my current moral situation at the time.

It was through many sex partners that I experimented this "trying to satisfy the emptiness my heart had".
How many men?  I refuse to share the number.  It was more than a couple. . . less than 10.
Now, fast-forward almost 24 yrs and you have a Mother, a wife, a friend, a successful business person, and much more,  who is crying for something long gone. . . something that should still be put to bed.

I should be thankful I never caught any diseases.
I should be thankful I survived rape, molestation, emotional and verbal abuse from the pulpit of an angry judge who deemed himself, "GOD".

This is painful!

It makes me angry that I experience such ill toward my sister for bringing out the dragons at this late date!

I want to run away and leave her there, alone!
I couldn't years ago, and I can't now.

But before I can do anything about it, I have to find some type of gauze to cover the blood.
I have to fill this void with good things.

I have to stop waiting for Mom and Dad to come to my rescue.
They never did.
They never will.
They are dead and I am still here picking up the pieces.

Still, I sit here in the silence, thankful that I am beyond taking countless baths everyday to wash away the stains.  And I wish, I ache, I long for my Mother to let me just rest in her lap and cry it all out.
It never happened.
It never will.

In the meantime, I'm bleeding through.