POEMS 12
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I am writing quietly in the dark and I don't know if my letters are straight. But I must tell someone because if I stay silent this time it will happen again and that will kill me. So now I write to you, Robin and I am telling you something is wrong with the way Dad is touching me. Please do not think that I am overreacting, Robin. When I gave it to you you didn't understand and you asked if he touched me in inappropriate places. So I said no but I couldn't tell you that I meant not anymore. I can't tell you that I know where this will lead to and I know it will go farther this time. You told Mom and now Mom looks at me like I am lying trash. But she knows what happened because she was there too. And then Mom told Dad, Robin, and he hit me and he hates me so much. He denies it, oh he denies it but I know, I KNOW what happened, and I only wish I could forget. What I would give to hear him confess, but I know he never will give me closure. Now they all hate me, Robin, and it's your fault. They hate me for this so they take away my friends, they take away my life and they lock me in my room where I contemplate death now until I fall asleep. I trusted you, Robin, and you betrayed me-- just like my sister did when she told them I asked her questions. You were the one person who could help me, Robin, so what am I supposed to do now?
Blackness threatening, overcoming reason. Eyes closed, razor gripped tightly. Blades pressed against skin. Pressure applied. Pain. I am real. Red dripping, carrying reality. Eyes opened, razor clatters to the floor, untrancing me. A thin line across skin. Two drops of blood fall, carrying away part of this shame. Raising my head. The mirror looks away. I reach for small, white pills to find one more way of forgetting the impossible. Swallow one. Two. Four. Ten. Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-four. Will it ever be enough?
EMPTY i used to be beautiful trusting and free i used to be innocent you took that from me i gave you my heart to use as you pleased i gave you my strength you tore me apart now my eyes show all that i lack once bright and sunny clear and carefree but now they are hollow and black you never loved me never even cared but you took my innocence and threw away what we'd shared now i am ruined i can never trust again you've sucked away my life you've given me my end
IF THEY KNEW By Phylis Steinberg A little girl looked in the mirror "Who are you, " she asked the image? No answer was heard "You look sad- You look like you need a friend I think I could be your friend If I knew!" A teenager looked in the mirror "I know you - I hate you! You are stupid, horrid and ugly Everything you do is wrong You should never have been born No one will ever want you - or love you If they knew!" A young woman looked in the mirror "Who are you? I don't care any more You have made too many mistakes You have messed up your life You don't deserve to be loved - by anyone! It's too late - it's hopeless I don't want "them" to know. One day the woman heard a voice "Look up to Me, my little one I have made you in MY image My Son gave His life for you- He is ready to be your friend -forever Just believe in Him and trust Him WE KNOW - AND LOVE YOU! The woman looked inside her soul She saw the little girl she used to be "I'm sorry I hated you, I love you It will be ok - Jesus lives in us know Dear one, I'm glad we were born We will learn to love - and be loved. I know, too - and I'm ready to be your friend.
I LIE HERE ..... I lie here wishing for sleep to come, For in sleep there are many nightmares, But there's also the hope of a dream. I lie here wishing to feel the pain, For if I feel the pain, I may also feel the joy. I lie here quietly listening, For if I listen hard enough, I may also hear myself. I lie here deeply thinking, For among those awful hateful thoughts, I may find a glimmer of love. I lie here patiently waiting, For if I wait long enough, I know my time will come.
Kimberlee's Poem #43 Ripping claws Tearing my flesh, You are eating me alive Fear and violence Are all you possess And yet, I do not cry. They pull you off, A slathering beast, You stare hungrily for more. Bleeding and battered, The remnants for your feast, Scattered violently across the floor.
Kathy's Poem this is about what my dad did to me........ there is a secret that many keep locked away inside buried very deep all the memories pounding in our heads rushing through our veins as though they were lead we live and breathe and taste and feel and hide our abuse "but he was abused too" still, there is no excuse for so many years i've run away hurting myself trying to make me pay for the mistake that i made letting him touch me did i make the grade? was i good enough? did i fill his need? was he satisfied? ya, i hid his dirty deed i kept it to myself i carried it around "sometimes" without a sound now here i am at thirty nothing has changed i still feel dirty because of him i'm different inside i can't find kathy she's found somewhere to hide who am i? what am i? how do i feel? is there a way to be certain about what is real? how could he do this? doesn't he see all the smothering pain he inflicted on me? he took my life and my dreams and left me with nothing nothing but screams the things he did were terrible still, he was my dad i miss all the good things we might have had nothing can replace or fill the empty hole in the child that was once the very being that he stole.
Rosie's Poem Silent Child I see you always paint in black, Behind your tired eyes, the night is comming back, When the dark has secret games to play, They cloud your life still in the light of day, You keep it secret 'cos he'll kill your mom, Or maybe God will drop a fire bomb, But you can tell your dolly, as she can't speak, And your teddy sees because he doesn't sleep. And when you're old you'll always know, There was never magic for he made it go, Don't think love can save you now Silent Child. Live your life as best you can, When it's hard for you to trust a man, But never let them call you weird inside, Don't hide, Silent Child. I know you see the cracks when you're at school, Too sick to work, too tired to play the fool, How could a man have such an evil hold - on an innocent child and make her old? You feel the hands and a sharp push, You grit your teeth as you feel the blood gush, And when it's over you find a lie, Cover the secret, to somehow say why.
He stumbles in late at half past all obscurity; She turns he rhead from where she waits on needles. He reaches out with thick and hairy hands, smalling of cheap tonic and the girl next-door's stale Chanel No. 9; She grasps his hand to hold it away from her, her head still heavy with rum and warm Coca-Cola from three hours before. He wraps a searing arm around her neck and pushes his liquored tongue entirely into he rpliant mouth, reaching around for a high-schoolish grop with the other; She forgets which arms are hers and which are his, struggles against the snakes which have crawled inside her shirt and forces him out of her mouth to hold onto some essence of integrity. She clears her mind of his insults, for they are ordinary, and she already believes them so they can't hurt her anymore; He curses and accuses her of being cold, throws in a few shoves for good measure. She hits the dusty blue carpet and closes her eyes, wishing she deserved better.
