*my heart to sing, just for now*

In my mind's attic, in a box marked "Keep Out"
Are memories of a tough past, and I really doubt
You want to read on about my depressing past
But apparently you are more daring than the last
Who didn't read this far.

Only a child of merely three, my uncle, he molested me.
It happened once after I'd scraped my knee;
He yelled and said I had to take a bath
Little did I know what pain lay in my path
As he touched me.

He told me all sorts of terrible lies
I didn't see through his evil disguise
He said I was dirty and must come clean
(What he did next told me he hadn't been weaned.)
I was scared.

And yet he kept touching my legs, the insides
The worst part of all was how I saw his pride
As he hurt an innocent, trusting little child
His eternal punishment should be anything but mild
In hell.

He put his finger inside me after pushing me to the ground
I was so scared I couldn't make any sound.
I sat there in fear as pain entered my head
Even at that age, I then wished I were dead
Like he cared.

I remember another time when he hurt me
He took me to a private room, before I could flee.
I wore a dress that day, he took off my panties
And started touching, beginning at my knees
Going north.

Then he took off his pants and made me touch him
Forced to handle his penis, he called it his stem
And what happened next, I bit my own lip
Then he thrust my open mouth down to his hips
And I cried.

Another day, I was getting ready to shower
He came in again, once more to overpower
Me and as he pinned me down to the floor
I realized I just couldn't take any more
Then he raped me.

When he left, I lay crying alone
In a pool of blood, if only he were done
Making me miserable, touching me and all
Fortunately those footsteps descending down the hall
I just cried.

Then I got up to wash away his sins
And as a child, I didn't know where to begin.
The force of my tears was constantly pouring
As I stood, almost helpless there showering
I was scared.

Yet once more my body did he seek
He grabbed me from behind, I thought I would freak
As he flung me down to the ground in the barn
Why hadn't anyone the time even to warn
Me of this?

And once more he raped me, again I was scared
And again it just seemed like nobody cared.
He told me this time that I'd never be loved
And said he would hurt me if even I moved.
And I cried.

Finally he dressed, and left me there
The pain was getting to be too much to bear
I got up right away and put on my clothes
My security is one thing my uncle loathes
So it seems.

So many times he lied 'bout my life
Said no one would ever want me as a wife
Said I was no good, would never do well
And no one would believe me if I would tell
But I did.

Sometimes my story would be doubted
But for those times I only pouted
And told someone else in hopes they'd believe
Or maybe share words, my pain to relieve
I hoped.

Sometimes the best thing a friend can do
Is just to believe my story is true
And be there for me, let me be sad
Instead of offer to hurt his gonads
(Oh, what fun.)

So I thank you for reading my depressed song
I knew you'd be my friend, I knew all along
Now I feel better, my heart to sing
And never again will I feel sorrow's sting
Just for now.

All alone in the darkness my inner child cries
For those who have been hurt as she was, and are afraid
She cries for them to know that they are not alone
She cries for them to know that there is a safe place
She cries out to them to hold her hand, and she will lead there.

All alone in the darkness my inner child laughs
For those who need encouragement and the will to smile
She laughs because the darkness can no longer control her
She laughs knowing that she CAN be strong despite the lies
She laughs at the abusers when their prey stops the hurting

All alone in the darkness my inner child hopes
That those who need the courage to go on have found it
She hopes that they will realize they haven't done any wrong
She hopes that they will find support from loving friends
She hopes that they will not be afraid of the darkness any more.
6-10-01

I write.
Perhaps it is because I was taught at an early age to do so.
Perhaps it is because somewhere I hope my words might bring a smile,
Or perhaps I write
Because I feel the need for those around me to understand me,
Or those who understand me to acknowledge me.

I care.
Perhaps it is because everyone should feel that someone cares,
Or perhaps I care Because I feel the need to be caring to others,
Or those I care about to care for me, too.

I cry.
Perhaps it is because I feel free of past burdens,
Perhaps it is because of the triumphs of friends,
Or perhaps I cry
Because I feel the need to keep in touch,
Or those I love feel lost. 6-10-01