Silence
The chain
That binds truth
In lies.
Of the horrors
Committed
In the name of love
And punishment.
Twisting the light
Into a dark parody
Where reality loses
All meaning
Except for pain.
Molding one's soul
Like clay
On a potter's wheel
With deft hands.
As the banshee wails
Outside
The bedroom window
The bedroom window
Heralding the death
Of another innocent.
Which
No one hears
Or cares
Until too late.
Therisa © 2014
Author's note: I'm a survivor of child abuse, by a family member, who was, a child, themselves. The abuse was dismissed, as sibling rivalry, by my parents. In recent years, researchers have come forward, in saying, what was thought, as sibling rivalry, in some case, is really abuse/bullying of one sibling, over the other(s). For many years, in my life, I have experienced suicidal thoughts, low self-esteem, and low self-confidence.
I know, not all of this, is strictly related, to my brother's actions, against me, but also includes the bullying, I had to endure, on and off of the schoolyard, by other children, around my age, starting when I started kindergarten, in 1975. Only, to end, when I transferred to another high school, at the end of grade 10, in 1987. Still, for the next 3 school years, almost constantly depressed, to the point, I was attempting to take my life, by pushing a knife, into my ribcage, hoping to puncture my heart or lungs. Only stopped, due to the lack of arm strength to push the knife, into me.
I know, not all of this, is strictly related, to my brother's actions, against me, but also includes the bullying, I had to endure, on and off of the schoolyard, by other children, around my age, starting when I started kindergarten, in 1975. Only, to end, when I transferred to another high school, at the end of grade 10, in 1987. Still, for the next 3 school years, almost constantly depressed, to the point, I was attempting to take my life, by pushing a knife, into my ribcage, hoping to puncture my heart or lungs. Only stopped, due to the lack of arm strength to push the knife, into me.
10 comments:
Your story is too sad, but WOW! you survived. Children can be curl, and so can siblings...we see it in nature, and certainly we see it in "ourselves." (As a part of the human race.) It is said, if it is humanly possible, it is possible to us all.
I speak for the Universe, I am so sorry this happened to you.
Thank you, Annell, can honestly say, I'm no longer, in the same head space, as when this poem was written. Although, I do still experience PTSD flashbacks.
The scars can be too heavy to bear and carry on ~
Parents and teachers should put a stop to bullying/abuse between children. So sorry they didn't better protect you...you must know it's not your fault.
I also still have serious flashbacks. It is debilitating. I'm glad you didn't manage the suicide. Please be well as can be.
I do not have the right words to say but I do pray for consolation when dark memories make a visit.
- imelda
You are adorned with the scars you carry, depicting the strength inside.
I hope things turn out better for you. Best wishes.
I'm glad to read in the comments that you are no longer as distraught as you were, but this is a lot to deal with, I'm sure. Writing is cathartic in my life, and I'm thinking the same is true for you. We all need an outlet, and I am hoping the healing continues for you.
So hard, a sibling or another relative makes it so much harder, you cannot break those bonds of blood... and a chasm is opened in a family.
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