Abuse, Too Much Too Young
Posted: Wed Sep 07, 2011 9:03 am
Jealously gazing outside, all my friends of such youthful ages,
Reciting nursery rhymes, joyous smiles upon such innocent faces,
Girls making daisy chains, discussing which boy they like most,
The out of breath boys playing football, using jumpers for goalposts,
The epitome of childishness, running without direction, wholly carefree,
Contagious laughter in the air, sadly though, it never seems to reach me.
The sun’s shining bright, but clouds block out the rays of light it emits,
I’m like a new born baby, wrapped from head to toe in my stratus blanket,
For the majority of my life I feel like I’ve been hibernating in the shade,
I continuously pray for the heavens to open so I no longer have to be afraid,
Whether you free me or release me, you have the power to end my misery,
I shouldn’t have to live in fear of those who should love me unconditionally.
I heard raised voices, the front door slams, I knew what my impending future holds,
Stomping footsteps marched upstairs, my door swung open, my blood turned cold,
With a hate filled stare he angrily walked over and struck me to the ground,
I was seemingly nailed to the floor, fist after fist after fist unrelentingly hammered down,
Enduring ceaseless kicks to the stomach and lashes of his belt upon my back,
Paralysed by fear, I lay motionless waiting for him to conclude his attack.
I’ve never sinned, so why do my parents beat me into a semi-conscious state?
My body a blank canvas, the damage they made is the masterpiece they create,
They've finely place lacerations and welts to decorate my beaten and bloodied torso,
Like someone laying red, yellow and blue flowers in a field of freshly fallen snow,
I cry tears of blood, the pain I feel is way beyond personal and it’s about to break me,
So emotionally deep rooted, like their anger has travelled through every branch of my family tree.
My whole body shook as I pulled myself up off the floor, back to a vertical base,
Looking into the mirror I saw a scared and fragile child awaiting a loving parents embrace,
Sadly I stood there alone for days, trying in vain to console myself from deep within,
In that time the cuts and bruises faded, they’re barely visible, camouflaged by my skin,
All my pain and sadness are absorbed by my body, bottled up deep within my heart,
And once again my body conceals the remaining evidence of my parents “work of art.”
Reciting nursery rhymes, joyous smiles upon such innocent faces,
Girls making daisy chains, discussing which boy they like most,
The out of breath boys playing football, using jumpers for goalposts,
The epitome of childishness, running without direction, wholly carefree,
Contagious laughter in the air, sadly though, it never seems to reach me.
The sun’s shining bright, but clouds block out the rays of light it emits,
I’m like a new born baby, wrapped from head to toe in my stratus blanket,
For the majority of my life I feel like I’ve been hibernating in the shade,
I continuously pray for the heavens to open so I no longer have to be afraid,
Whether you free me or release me, you have the power to end my misery,
I shouldn’t have to live in fear of those who should love me unconditionally.
I heard raised voices, the front door slams, I knew what my impending future holds,
Stomping footsteps marched upstairs, my door swung open, my blood turned cold,
With a hate filled stare he angrily walked over and struck me to the ground,
I was seemingly nailed to the floor, fist after fist after fist unrelentingly hammered down,
Enduring ceaseless kicks to the stomach and lashes of his belt upon my back,
Paralysed by fear, I lay motionless waiting for him to conclude his attack.
I’ve never sinned, so why do my parents beat me into a semi-conscious state?
My body a blank canvas, the damage they made is the masterpiece they create,
They've finely place lacerations and welts to decorate my beaten and bloodied torso,
Like someone laying red, yellow and blue flowers in a field of freshly fallen snow,
I cry tears of blood, the pain I feel is way beyond personal and it’s about to break me,
So emotionally deep rooted, like their anger has travelled through every branch of my family tree.
My whole body shook as I pulled myself up off the floor, back to a vertical base,
Looking into the mirror I saw a scared and fragile child awaiting a loving parents embrace,
Sadly I stood there alone for days, trying in vain to console myself from deep within,
In that time the cuts and bruises faded, they’re barely visible, camouflaged by my skin,
All my pain and sadness are absorbed by my body, bottled up deep within my heart,
And once again my body conceals the remaining evidence of my parents “work of art.”