Friday, October 23, 2009

But I Am Your Voice

I know you are probably crying
Alone, not knowing what to do
Having no one to turn to
And not understanding what is happening

Confused, lost, unknown and unseen
Curled away and forgotten
The darkness of the room
Alone, looking out the window with no hope in sight

Listening, praying but no God there
To help in the slightest way
A bang on the door
Or a glimmer of hope, to be stolen at any moment

Looking at his sick face daily
Seeing the disgust; being touched
Living with evil
A nightmare on every turn

I know you don't know me
And would not acknowledge me in the crowd
But I am your voice
Where you will be, once he is gone.

Be strong, tonight may be dark and the footsteps loud
But he can never destroy you
For I am here, waiting, your future self
Writing slow tales of the horror you endured.

Feel safe knowing I am here
Keeping you kind
Getting you help
And holding you as you cry

This poem has been a long time coming.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

I will go back

A path with a rock
Eyes stare at night
A fence to the side
Horror, a new memory such delight

How could I have forgotten
This area again
And now I write this poem
To remember back then

Lets discover this memory
For I don't know what it be
I am thinking to stop
Because it is within me

Take a deep breath
I see the eyes
My memory haunts me
Its has its little spies

There is garden
I am a little girl
He is teaching me something
A little girl to unfurl

Covered by the road
Innocence all around
My memory is just lost
It is not going to be found

What is he doing
Is he even there
I know we have visited this space
Nobody was even there

My window in the back,
The hose to the side
Lets turn off the tap
The horror about to ride

Lets step off the ledge
And see what he has done
Because together
This freak has not won

Deep breath once more,
Lets return back then
Close our eyes silently
Lets begin to win again

Block out the noise
And see this place
What has he done
In utter disgrace

Here it is
I am seeing it now
My god that was frightening
That cannot be real, and how.

I must have made that up
That cannot be true
I am sorry to disturb you
I will go back to feeling blue

Memories are sometimes too traumatic to remember. It is easier to forget.