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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Biographical · #1485959
poem describing the 10 words that have marked my life.
Looking through a shadowed past,
wishing I was having a blast.
Climbing up this narrow wall,
terrified I'm gonna fall.

Fear.

Can't look forward, can't look back,
I won't shed a tear, won't give in to my fears.
Ignoring the bruises, the blood, the tears.
I see the inner me, the child that hate the world.

Determination.

Her screams, her hatred, her terror.
Faces hidden in  shadow,
memories that are blurred by denial,
custody battles, hours of trials.

Shadows.

I see her face again, in that dark room in the corner,
the woman that birthed her, the woman who trashed her.
The hatred, the indifference, the fake smile.
Cigarette smoke, filling the air,
the smell of stale beer choking her here.

Neglect.

I can't see past the broken glass,
the faces looking in through the darkness,
an infant's starving screams,
All noise in that past world is blocked by deafness.

Starvation.

A man with golden hair, a smile as wide as Satan's,
inside the girl's room he now stands
wide hands so soft, breaking her last defense,
hatred tainting her heart, a child's lost innocence.

Molestation.

The tree in the yard, the boy with the toy cars,
siblings playing, carefree as the world,
Sunshine tainted by poison clouds,
rope wrapping around a child's neck.
Coils around that friendly tree, breath choking out of me.

Betrayal.

Alone. Alone. No one's home.
Where have they gone?
Maybe it's better this way.
With him in prison....and mother away...
They'll send the others away to stay.
Peace for a while, a calm before the next storm.

Hiding.

Mother. Was that her name?
No! I'm not your child, you've got no claim!
Forgotten, rejected, abused, neglected,
The seams of my tearing heart reflected.

Hatred.


When running from the truth, hiding from my fears...
Wouldn't it be easier just to give in?
Why run, why hide, why deny?
When one pill, one bullet, one knife,
Could stop all that pain?

Pain

Living a life of lies,
feeding my friends stories and falsehoods,
hiding my heart, wanting to cry,
hating myself, wondering why.

Watching their smiles,
making my own,
Hating their happiness,
craving my own.

Will the terror ever leave my heart?
Or will I slowly be torn apart?
I've got a story to tell,
If I can be heard.
Ignoring it will not help,
it only let's my pain swell.

I've got a story to tell,
will you listen?

© Copyright 2008 Dariada (the_mages_lady at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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