7714
- Reads 104
- Votes 2
- Parts 1
Complete Sat, Mar 26, 2016<5 mins
This poem is about a girl who had been sexually abused by her stepfather since she was a little girl and still battles with it currently. She was in the hospital getting ready to deliver her child. She was alone as always with no family and no friends by her side until her sole sister walked in to be there with her all the way till the end. She had to have a c-section delivery so as she's been put under by the anesthesia her sister begins to worry that she won't wake back up.
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The Text
"You are a worthless piece of trash! We should've gotten rid of you when we had the chance!" My abusive dad shouted, slapping me with all of his might. My name is Chloe Adams. Both of my parents have abused me my entire life. I'm covered in bruises, cuts, and burns from head to toe, but I've learned how to cover them up. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever escape this hell hole. "Yeah you should've." I agreed, whispering under my breath. "What was that!?" He yelled even louder than before. "N-Nothing." I stuttered, afraid of his reaction. I don't want to be pushed down the stairs again. The last time that happened, I broke my wrist. They didn't even take me to the hospital. I had to bandage it myself. "That's what I thought! Go fetch me a beer!" He ordered. There comes a moment when you don't want to stop. When you don't want to get better. You just don't care anymore. Read to find out how one small yet huge text can change Chloe's outlook on this magical journey we call life.Complete
Sold: You Are All I Have.
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"You are a worthless piece of trash! We should've gotten rid of you when we had the chance!" My abusive dad shouted, slapping me with all of his might. My name is Chloe Adams. Both of my parents have abused me my entire life. I'm covered in bruises, cuts, and burns from head to toe, but I've learned how to cover them up. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever escape this hell hole. "Yeah you should've." I agreed, whispering under my breath. "What was that!?" He yelled even louder than before. "N-Nothing." I stuttered, afraid of his reaction. I don't want to be pushed down the stairs again. The last time that happened, I broke my wrist. They didn't even take me to the hospital. I had to bandage it myself. "That's what I thought! Go fetch me a beer!" He ordered. There comes a moment when you don't want to stop. When you don't want to get better. You just don't care anymore. Read to find out how one small yet huge text can change Chloe's outlook on this magical journey we call life.
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