I Cry Silently

I Cry Silently

I lie in my bed, alone in my crib,
Waiting for comforting hands.
I weep and wail, shaking with rage.
I do not cry silently!

Still, no one comes to attend to my needs.
My belly's empty; my bottom burns
With the rash of a long-neglected diaper.
My screams are deafening.

Out of the emptiness appears a face.
I quiet my cries in hopes that it
Will ease my pain and distress.
I wait for relief, and cry silently.

This face shows no love, only frustrated despair.
Her hands are not gentle; I feel no comfort.
I wait an eternity to feel some relief.
I bring back the noise of my tears.

I am shaken and screamed at;I don't know why!
The face and hands continue their abuse.
It is all that I know; I know nothing else.
I can not cry silently.

The months go by and become three years.
I have learned that my tears serve no purpose.
I no longer expect any ease for my pain.
My cries have now become silent.

My silent tears have turned into rage!
If I'm to survive I must take care of myself.
I've learned this truth in my short time on Earth.
I continue to weep silently.

Strange faces and hands have carried me away
To a new home, with unknown faces.
These faces and hands are not so cruel,
But still I cry silently.

They want to me to live with so MANY rules;
They actually think they're in charge!
Don't they know I'm on my own?
I've learned how to cry silently.

The woman who lives here has gentle hands.
Her face is soft and her eyes are warm.
Is this "love"? How would I know?
I can only cry silently.

There's another woman-I call her "Coach"-
Who makes me think about things.
She's helping me as I work through my rage,
But still my tears are silent.

She helps me understand my pain,
And puts words and names to my feelings.
I've begun to like the person I am!
My tears are not always silent.

She's a tough cookie-impossible to fool.
She figures me out every time!
I know I still have a long way to go.
Too often my tears are silent.

I'm learning more each day-
How to laugh, and how to be sad;
I can even be angry, and still be safe.
My tears are less and less silent.

I finally have someone who gets me,
And understands who I am!
And the other woman? She's now my mother!
I no longer have to cry silently.

Pat Nelson
May 29, 2008

This is a poem dedicated to my son, a victim of severe neglect and abuse, causing him to have Attachment Disorder. This is a horrific disorder which must receive the proper therapy by one who is trained in Attachment Disorder. It requires special therapy at home as well. There is great hope for my son, now that we have found a wonderful therapist, Dr. Susan B. Corbin. She has helped him help himself, and has taught us how to parent a child with Attachment Disorder. We are grateful to her every day of our lives.

For more information on Attachment Disorder, please click on the following link: http://ATTACh.org

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