I never knew how past would again and again torment me...the little child in me stays awake. Wanting someone to hold my hand and say," it's ok...am with you."
The shadows howl at me, singing crazy songs of childhood lullabies; keeping me awake. I fight with my mind to sleep. Lights blind me, disclosing the faces of known ones...my own ones playing with me... destroying my joy of childhood.
Am alone in this body...no one to hear but me the screams of my helplessness...am alone to survive the pain and agony which I am unable to comprehend and produce the same in written words or spoken. But trust me...am dying each day with the guilt of something, that I haven't done but being the victim of which has been more tormenting...
It's like seeing myself each night...fighting to survive the hallucination... fighting to survive the death of my childhood...
Am fighting to slow down growing...to be an adult...to understand the vanished phase between my childhood and youth.
Am not what they made me...I am me. Not a victim of the doings of their's. Am not the left over...
Am not eatable to be stale with time.
Am not a survivor of the abuse ...but half victorious.
My only victory is that I didn't give up on living.
But partly am dead...as I should have been completely ... after the blackout of my life's horrific day.
The shallow shadow of me on the ground crawls like a helpless earthworm. What else can a woman feel about herself?
Image : www.scarymommy.com
