About the assumption of blame by the abused.
|I FIND MYSELF GUILTY AS CHARGED
When she was just little,
She didn't understand.
She only knew that he was good;
That what he said was truth.
And so she believed
It was her fault
She was bad,
Hers the blame,
And hers the shame.
The secret became their bond.
Through the years her guilt
Has forged the chains
That lock her in her shame.
"I let him do it,
I didn't fight
I didn't yell
I didn't tell."
At six, perhaps she had no choice
At ten she could have given voice.
Too small to fight when it began,
She grew up stronger than the man.
But still she let it happen,
Still she didn't speak.
Still she allowed the pain,
And still she held the shame.
Now she's all grown up
No child anymore.
She knows where the blame belongs,
I live my life in two worlds:
One of ghosts and shoadows,
The other of reality.
Like a shade I slide between my worlds,
Belonging to neither one.
Sometimes I slip beneath the surface
Of the world of ghosts and shoadows,
Emerging only with great effort
At the class of those I love.
At times reality is nowhere near as real
As the ghost world where I wait
For my Monster to appear.