This is the story of a friend of mine. She grew up in an abusive home, totally devoid of any actual love. She’s come a long way since then, but I thought I’d share this in case anyone has a friend in a similar situation, or has been in one themselves. You may be able to empathize, or at least know that someone else has gone through a similar experience and come out okay.
8.15.10
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A girl’s Poem
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We are the forgotten children
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Act I: A Mother/A Place
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We live in the world
And we are exhausted
We’ve played and we’ve tried
And this game we have lost
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We long for an answer
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For a place to find the truth
A place to heal our youth
A place to rest and smooth
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Mother is the name for God
On the lips and hearts of all children
But our mother is no god.
Mother is of the prince, a demon.
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We long for deliverance.
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For a place to cry our tears
A place to speak our fears
A place to spend our years
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We looked at her and bright young eyes
Were opened wide in shock and pain
As her hand destroyed the boundary of our face
As the god of childhood became a devil
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We long for a savior
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For a place to come undone
A place to have some fun
A place to hug someone
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Red welts, deep bleeding cuts
Nothing to what we feel inside
With every blow and every scream
More of us is killed, may not return
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We long for new life
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For a place to lay our head
A place to find a bed
A place to not live dead
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The months and years they pass us by
Each colder than the one before it
And with less hope and more acceptance
Of this thing we have grown to call our life
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We scream inside for change
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For a place sent from above
A place to find real love
A place to live as doves
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Act II: Cain (Brother)
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A firstborn male, an alpha
A mission you were born with
A mission you destroyed
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Protector – a lie
Guardian – deceit
Defender – a joke
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A beast of nightmares
Haunting the waking hours
Of our defenseless lives
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Aberration – the truth
Abomination – flesh
Monster – reality
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The mark is not left on you
But on our pale and tender flesh
Knuckles marred our souls
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Savior – of nothing
Ruiner – of all
Destroyer – of worlds
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Your presents left on ribs and stomachs
Black and blue and red all over
Hide them for the perfect family lie
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Predator – of youth
Hunter – of innocence
Butcher – of dreams
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In the end you realized power was unneeded
You controlled us by fear and words
Controlling our lives without your fists
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Stalker – of hallways
Terror – of bedrooms
Horror – of staircases
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Our lives not ours to live
Our lives you’ve taken for your own
At any moment could be ended
At any moment taken from us
By this fearful creature in our home
By this crushing black mind
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Act III: A house not home
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This home is anything but
To the world, a portrait of health
White picket fence, warm painted doors
Strong sturdy walls, inviting windows
A mother and a brother at the top of the stair
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But deep are the lies, a deadly disguise
The fence, razor wire atop cold hard steel
To keep us from climbing out
The door locked tighter than any bank vault
To keep us from running away
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The walls cold dead concrete
To keep us interred inside them
The windows barred and twelve feet thick
To keep us from crying for help
The mother the warden, the brother a guard
To keep us afraid
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And we
We are prisoners of the mind
No locks on our doors, no bars on our windows
No barbed wire fences, no prison guards
No walls to keep us in
But we are slaves to the family
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Those who starve and long the most for food
Remember the least what it tastes like
And will settle for sour milk and rotten meat
Knowing no better
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There is only one thing that keeps us here.
The only thing we have to fear
Is fear itself
In our hearts, fear has a name
Fear is called mother
Fear is called brother
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So on we live, breathing still
We try to run and we try to hide
Living in fear where we should be safe
Hiding from who should hide us
Wishing for safety from who should save us
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Our home has become a tomb
Full of dark corners and darker memories
Haunting our dreams, brutalizing our minds
Patrolled by saints with sharp bright grins
In whom solitude and privacy reveal the monster
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The story is still incomplete, but things seem to be looking up.