Abused




I

The trouble with me 

She said

Is I don't believe 

I have a right

To feel

Like this

What happened to me 

She said 
Is nothing

Compared to what 

Some people suffer

After all 

Is said and done

I am alive I live I love

In my own way

Compared to some people

I am lucky

So what right

Do I have

To feel like this


The trouble with me 
She said

Is I feel besieged 

Fears of self-indulgence 

Encircle my small pain

And make me doubt its truth

 

II

 

There 
Somewhere there

In her mind in her heart

In her soul if she has one

She holds onto her small sorrow

Like a battered woman

Holds on to the belief that she isn't mad

Like an abused child

Clings to the hope that she isn't bad

 

She clasps her small sorrow close to her breast

Keeping it warm alive and blessed

With her daily attention to its details

 

In the great scheme of things

This global glut of cruelty

This world wide web of wickedness

Hers was a very small injury

In memory

In deed


She feels

That to place her pain alongside the horror that is some lives

Is arrogance beyond belief and justification

Is hubris beyond relief and vindication

These things  she knows but she still can't let go

For fear that frail defining thing 

Is all there is of her


III

 

I want none of your explanations

None of your condemnations 

Of men such as those who abused me

Or helped me to abuse myself

 

They are mine to explain and to condemn

Mine to complain about and when 

Done complaining 
To cry about

 

I want none of your sympathising

None of your empathising

Over the pain and the loss

Of childhood innocence

 

It was mine to hold and to protect

Mine to guard and not forget

The mothers’ warnings

 

IV

She holds her insult close to her heart

Like a street urchin clutching a grubby toy

It defines her

It is her

It makes her want to cry

Out 

But she can’t 

Because

Without it she fears she is void

 

V

 

How is it 

She whispered

That I feel like this

Still - here 

In this place that is 

Still - child

How is it 
She cried

That I remember 

Still - words

Spoken by a dead man 

Words he would not remember even if 

Still -  alive

 

How does a child live with betrayal

She howled

A betrayal that does not cut clean

Or cause a righteous bruise

But makes a jagged dirty wound

To fester poison and confuse

Not a cut to show to friends 

Or hurt for mother’s kiss to mend

A scar to hide from others’ gaze

A pain reserved for child betrayed

 

How does a betrayed child live

She wept

With a wound that only she can see

That defines her with its nagging pain

Ensuring she neither

Forgets nor feels whole again

 

Better that wound had killed me dead 

She said

And half a laugh cast shadows where her eyes should be

 

I asked him one day

She whispered

If I was pretty 

He threw some words at me 

Over his shoulder

You don’t look at the mantlepiece

When you poke the fire

 

I was eleven

She cried
Scared I was scarred and ugly 

And no-one could love me 

Because of the jagged hole 

He had made 

In me

In - me

 

Why do I still remember

She howled

So long ago 

It was so long ago

I can still smell the smell 

Of the day

Of the room 

Of him

Still feel my not yet adult heart crack 

And want to die 

And my poor child’s voice

Want to cry 

Out 

And shame on you 

Why choose this time to be honest

All your life you lied 

To yourself

To the world 

Such a nice man

Such a kind man

Such a charming man

Why choose me to be the witness 

To your brutal truth 

 

Oh god 

She moaned

He could have lied

Fathers are supposed to lie 

When a lie is a shield

That protects a child 

V1

There is in her

A sadness

Not a pure deserving sadness

A bitter melancholy lies

Deep in the heart of her

 

There is in her 

A badness

Not a cruel and callous badness

A polluted imperfection lies

Deep in the heart of her

 

There is in her 

A madness

Not a splendid raging madness

A snarling indignation lies

Deep in the heart of her

 

There is in her 

No gladness

No joyful loving gladness

Just a mad bad sadness

In the heart and whole of her

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