Exposed

A glance back into the past..

If i told the world how i really felt and bared my soul to them,
Would it make a difference?
Would it change their perception of me?
I figure why expose myself,
Why stand naked before a microscope to be poked and prodded,
By sick scientists that would rather dissect my very being to understand my sickness than to offer me a cure.
But if you must know then here it goes,
Cause i've got nothing to gain and nothing to lose.
I've come from a pretty rough past you could say a sick childhood,
I was raped by life in more ways than can be understood.
Stripped of my innocence at such a young age,
Taken advantage of because i was too afraid;
to speak up.
Spent my time in the shower scrubbing my skin raw,
I'd rather be bloody and bruised than to feel him at all,
Do you know how it feels to want to crawl out of your skin?
Or to want to take your own life when it's only just began.
Yup, only five when the depression kicked in.
And it constantly ate at me. That s**t gets you sick.
My dad wasn't in my life my mom was always working,
jumping from shelter to shelter it was a while before i had a place to call home.
But it wasn't really cause just like those fake tattoos,
Any home was only temporary.
Eleven years old now and i started to notice some changes,
I couldn't wear a shirt without a bra no more and i was changing in other places.
Started to develop feelings that only a woman should experience.
So now when the abuse came i actually welcomed it.
My body and mind already mature,
But behind it all i was still just a scared little girl,
Hating myself for what i was feeling,
While at school attending those seminars about child abuse.
I disgusted myself and at times i would cry,
Hearing the other girls laughing while we watched those videos,
Of boys touching girls asses and fondling them,
Of older men preying on younger girls.
I hated the world it had offered me nothing but pain,
I envied everyone who had it better than me.
My only escape was writing poetry,
Still only a child and i had surpassed the normal vocabulary,
I was constantly with a book in my hand and my nose in the pages,
Only thing that ever really made my day.
From morning to night i was reading a book.
The library became my sanctuary,
I would cut class and run there just to satisfy my need for another fix.
My grades started dropping.
My parents thought that when i cut that i left the school.
If only they knew…
After a while everything blew up,
My nightmare only grew worse,
All i remember is a pale room with cameras and monitors and this sterile smell that made me want to vomit.
My worst fear of being exposed was coming to life right in front of me,
My fearful eyes sought out my mother's face,
Her cheeks were tinged pink; no doubt ashamed,
I reached for her hand, but she turned away,
It barely registered when the nurse told me to get undressed,
Then with a sympathetic face she positioned herself between my thighs and told me, “Honey, hold your breath.”
(To be Continued)

Reviews

[G. B. Banks]

Flowing and honest. And that your own thoughts raised you comes through profoundly. I know what you write I've been there. Loved to read you and thank you for showing your inner self through art here Rosaly. Cheers