This chapter is a vent chapter regarding my experience with sa/csa. Feel free to skip to this chapter as it contains heavy topics.
Long gone but not over
The abuse ended years ago,
It's been years since he did what he did,
I know this, I remind myself every day,
But on some level it feels like it never stopped.
I know he's hours away but every night I feel his hands on me,
Every night that passes I am reminded of what happened years ago.
I feel bugs crawling up my legs, back, I feel them everywhere he laid his hands on me.
Sometimes I sense his presence,
I hear him walking through my house,
I hide under the covers or in the closet,
Because I couldn't live through that again.
The worst is when it hurts like it used to,
Sexual abuse hurts on many levels and sometimes it hurts again.
It hurts in the way it hurt little Elliot hurt.
But he's not here,
He can't hurt me anymore.If I could go back
I've spent far too much time wondering what I would do if I could go back.
I don't blame little Elliot for being scared,
I don't blame him in any sense, he's not at fault here.
But if given the chance to go back and hurt that man I would.
I'd listen to his footsteps coming up the stairs and push him down them before he reached my bedroom.
I'd hit him until I couldn't anymore, until my body wasn't able to.
I'd do anything for him to be as scared as I once was.
Because no child should go to bed as scared as I once did.
I can't go back in time, and maybe I would be too scared to see little Elliot.
But I know in my heart that life will never be the same for him again.
I don't have to hurt him to see that, he put this on himself and he'll look fear in the eyes someday soon.Such a wonderful family
I wrote him a letter recently,
I told him how angry I was,
How angry I was that he could do something like that to someone, let alone someone he was supposed to love,
It served as such a big relief,
A weight off my chest if it really was.
I found freedom in the fact that he doesn't have to be my brother.
When someone asks about my family I'll talk about my lovely sisters and parents,
I will tell them about my younger sisters jokes and older sisters support,
I will tell them about my mom's love and my dad's caring nature.
He's not family and he never was.I'm tired of protecting him
Although anger is not something I intend to hold onto,
It is something I intend to acknowledge.
I spent years pretending and hiding,
far too much time protecting him.
I am angry in a way I never thought I would be,
I've never been this mad.
I wasn't the only one, was I?
He's hurt more than one little girl.
What in him said this was okay is something I will never understand.
How could you do that to someone so small?
How did you live with yourself?
You watched me unravel and acted like you had nothing to do with it.It's okay to say it how it is
I've spent much of my life lying through my teeth,
I didn't make up stories but I did play a part.
I acted on a stage only to go and hide behind curtains.
But as I become older that becomes less appealing.
Pain doesn't hide, it may change appearances but it's never successfully hidden.
It's okay to admit this is hard and unfair.
There's nothing wrong with admitting what happened is not okay.Little Elliot
When children are hurt the pain stays with you if it goes unprocessed.
I am on some level a scared, confused and hurt child.
I remain scared of my abuser and often find myself hiding in closets and under covers.
I remain confused on how if he loved me so much he hurt me in such a real way.
I remain hurt, I experienced a betrayal unlike any other I've come to know.
Little Elliot wasn't allowed to be these things, so he stayed with me until he could.
YOU ARE READING
Letters from sixteen
PoetryA poetry book I wrote during periods of my life with many different facets. I wrote about happy moments, addiction, and trauma, the book becomes more depressing as it goes on. I choose the title "letters from sixteen" to capture how I wanted to capt...