Hiding in the closet,
Blood pooling at my feet,
I hear the screams,
But in fear, not a sound,
Not a single breath.
Hands are shaking,
Tears flowing out, with sadness,
Scars, bruises, cuts all over,
As the memories are blurred,
He's coming, I wont survive.
No happiness was ever seen,
Only hate and anguish,
Numbing emotions, pain,
Why am I not dead,
Where's my escape.
Again with the beatings,
Again with the touching,
Again with the words,
It never stopped,
He's angry again.
As I hide in this closet,
I feel no pain,
I feel nothing,
But the blood at my feet,
Is slowly becoming who I am.
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Author:
Domi (
Offline) - Published: July 16th, 2017 08:57
- Comment from author about the poem: Written: 9/18/2016\r\nThis poem is about the personal abuse I went through when I was younger and how I detached myself mentally from what was happening at that time.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 67
Offline)
Comments4
time is a good healer.
Indeed it is.
thanks take good care of yourself.
great piece
thank you 🙂
Nice work. Please have a glimpse of my poem 'Breaking the chain' published couple of days ago.
I read your poem, its very similar to how I feel about my daughter growing up. 🙂
In reality it's a minefield isn't.
Domi, I can read the pain and anguish between the lines. You write so well!
I am glad that all this abuse is behind you. Yes, the scars will remain, but hopefully even those will hopefully heal over time. No child should have to go through what you went through. I admire your strength and resolve.
Thank you for the compliment on my writing, means a lot to me.
And honestly over time i just gathered the strength to just numb those feelings over time to now.
Its only know that I am able to express these feelings through my writing because holding it in got to be too much for me.
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