WARNING: CONTENTS ARE GIVEN IN DETAIL.
IF YOU ARE A SEXUALLY ABUSED VICTIM OR SURVIVOR, THIS MAY TRIGGER ISSUES FROM YOUR EXPERIENCE.

Monday, January 24, 2011

She Remembers


She Remembers

Tormented, devastated,
Child-like feelings, I suppose
Under-lying fragments of a wounded childhood
Only time had self disclosed.

Memories linger, of a heated past
When summers could recall
Hiding scared beneath the laundry
In a closet down the hall.

She aches inside and often wonders,
Longing for innocence way back when
It was okay to sit on your lap and rest
Until the pain went away again.

The empty feeling cannot be buried
It will not go away
The source of wanting, longing, hoping
Of finding comfort once again.

The needing to be rescued
From the shadows in the dark
Takes hold of her deep in the night
And on a journey she embarks.

Walking, running, chasing demons
Just waiting for your arrival
Tripping, falling, watching her blood flow
Aching for her mere survival.

Tossing, turning, tied to bed posts
Only waking up to find
She’s wrapped too tight in the bed clothes
It was only in her mind.

Rolling over, hugging pillows
Dreaming of the “way back when”
You would come and gently rescue
A little girl and bring her in.

Slipping off to another slumber
Being ripped inside again
Curling up, she feels the blood flow
He’s had his way with her again.


The aching abuse with those objects
Stretching, ripping until she cried
Stomach unleashes until she vomits
Screaming help while he growled his lies.

The pain, the torture, the blood the fluid
Untold stories held within
She grew up way too young
In her thirties people say, only she believes she’s ten.

One could stand and look around her
In amazement some would say
Only knowing half the story
She’s a hero anyway

If they could only see inside
The scars the fear the gripping horror
They would finally understand
Why she’s still afraid to face tomorrow

The best was never good enough
He kept coming back for more
Until her soul at last he’d taken
Leaving her body on the shore

Memories wash away his face
From time to time when tides turn
Once a month they come to find her
He wins again - her tears still burn

She looks as if she’s seen a monster
Then turns to hide the pain
Wanting, longing, waiting, hoping
To find comfort once again.

Looking for her mother’s arms
Longing to be held once more
She cries herself to sleep tonight
There’s no one there anymore.

So hard to erase, with desperate measures
She soaks away the sin
All the lotions in the world
Cannot sooth her skin


In the distance, she can her it
The sad cry of a hurting child
Bringing herself to the present moment
The sound is her, emotions have run wild.

Pulling it all together,
Neatly tucking things away
She awakes to find the sun is out
She’s all grown up today

You may pass her in a hallway
Or on a sidewalk down the street
You only get to see the leader
Inside the secrets, she still keeps

You listen to her speaking
You may buy what she has to sell
You will never know the whole truth
That sometimes, she’s still in hell.
5-26-07

5 comments:

Shah Wharton said...

Hello - I'm here from the carnival against child abuse at http://margarettidwell.blogspot.com/
to offer support to all the contributors. My contribution - such as it is - is at wordsinsync.blogspot.com. I respect your poem, it is raw and indicative of the child and the adult's constant split and struggle. You illustrated the sorrow and the burden of such a past very well. I sometimes wonder how people who have not experienced such things recieve such explaniations? Would I undertand them had I not suffered?

Thank you for your contribution to the carnival. The word here, is spoken out loud - Shah. x

Shah Wharton said...

Sorry - this is a PS: - i have a brand new blog hop for creative people stating today, running through the weekend - love it if you could link up. It needs support to get it going, and you could meet lots of like-minded people whoc create all sorts. Shah. X

Anonymous said...

Thank you.

Your poem brought up so much for me. I lived much of it, so there was a lot to be brought up. I've often wondered why people only want to believe in the surface that they easily see.

Good and healing thoughts to you.

Kate

Tracie Nall said...

That truth of being so put together on the outside and so hurt and lost on the inside. That is so real to me.

This is very powerful.

Thank you for sharing it with the Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse.

Anonymous said...

Hi, I found you via the carnival against child abuse...I, I'm just touched by this poem. I feel you.

Thank you for sharing it.