abuse at home
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I don’t understand,
What i can withstand,
Is you on the line,
Of being blind,
Because what you can’t see,
Is what I take a knee for,
Drink, drink, yell, yell, hit hit
The little girl is the target
Swing and throw until she falls down
Go to the lake and try to drown
I remember those things so well
In my mind forever
Reliving it is complete hell
Forgetting would be better
31,536,000 seconds. The time I had to change.
86,400 seconds. The amount of time it took.
Days blurred together,
Repetitive routine with no interruption.
Here I am present,
the tiny infats who die,
from unfit "Parents".
Here I am the Light,
the Savior for the abused,
so many children.
Who am I, you ask?
Abuse
Do you like this?
Do you like seeing my suffer.
All the blood and tears you've gave me...
I don't cut for a chuckle or to amuse.
But to show the pain and years of abuse.
Children lying prostrate on the floor
Overworked and under-born
And on the sabbath every week
You come alive and watch them bleed
Watch them weep into the sea
Streaming colors laced with dreams
Many children are scared
of monsters under the bed
though adults know
it's all in their head
Though other children fear
monsters in the house
they must run and hide
be quiet as a mouse
ABUSED SURVIVER
Balling your fist
Just hoping you missed
Every single throw.
But then agian
Oh, there you go
With every blow.
Just knocking me down
Smacking me around
My father was a terrorist.
He did not wear a turban,
nor did he worship Allah,
nor was his skin brown like the sun kissed sands of Arabia.
Behind every closed door may or may not be a secret. Yet people decide to be fake, despite it.
There he stands, framed in the doorway
In his hand the black leather strip sway'
Oh how it sway,' and the mother cower away.
Cover the child, hide him from sight
Of eyes hazy with whiskey-demon light.
The devil was once an angel.
So kind; could do no harm.
But once he drinks,
out comes the belt,
and the anger of his past
I left you for a reason,
hoping you won't hurt me again,
Don't let anyone put you down, don't let anyone hurt you.
Don't just lay ther and take it. Stand up. FIGHT IT!
just some advice my dad gives.
She is ripped away from life slowly.
Her flesh. Her soul. Her eyes. Her heart.
Yet she stays put, to remain holy.
A girl so naïve and scared to part.
She has memorized the patterns of alcohol,
