Voices of Survivors

as i lie here awake in my bed

dark hidden secrets banging in my head

things from the past i have to hide

secrets that must stay locked inside

i cry to myself let them out

but it's just a quiet scared little shout

sometimes i think i'd rather be dead

than fight to keep them in my head

White tipped blue keds dragged along the sunpacked dirt.
Chubby legs in pink shorts aching to turn back,
My small hand gripped tightly in his large callused fist,
I went where he led- quietly.

Summoned with a glance, like a slave,
Head bowed I went to him, well taught.
To reject his private picnic? Unheard of.
Arudeness not allowed by may parents child.
Relunctanly I entered his adult world.
Knowing that when he finisher I was free.
Hopefully forever. hopefully...forever.

As we hurried down the path to his picnic
Startled grasshoppers escaped unchased, and
Buttercups were left to wither in the sun.
My eyes focused only on the dry rutted road
And the dust on my white tipped blue keds

It is the singing
of childhood
Lost so long ago

dreams and innocence
shattered and buried

              My teacher,my friend guiding with love and kindness

To a time when
I can transcend

         and know love and peace In
                                                                          My Heart and Spirit

A time when I also may hear the Singing once again

The woman cries to her mother
"I hurt mother, I ache.
My heart need to heal
From memories suffered.
Childhood moments, vivid in my mind."

The mother says to her daughter.
"I'm sorry dear, I know you pain.
But you are strong, you are wise
I cannot share your memories.
How can I comfort your tears?"

The child calls to her mommy.
"Why do you avoid my soul's ache!
Why can't you fix my world.
Take away my burden. Erase my fears!
I need a mommy to love me!"

The woman calls deep to her soul.
"I hear you my lovely child.
Your life, your pain, your joy I lived.
I'm sorry I left you struggling behind.
I will be your Mommy. Together we will heal.

Why is the pain so much worse in the night,
When I haven't the strength to put up a fight?
The night and the dark take over the sun
Like memories take over the distance I've come.
At nighttime it seems like the hurt is still here.
I bury my head and I tremble with fear.
Despite all the healing I've felt with the light,
The memories and pain all return with the night.

Nighttime is such a lonely place.
There's no more pretending or smiling face.
It's time to be honest and be the real me.
No more hiding behind what I let people see.
I know all my problems, my hurt and my pain.
I know where they came from and feel all the shame.
But no one can know what I feel in the night.
A mask appears in the morning light.
So the feelings are gone,
and nothing is wrong,
until the sun goes down.

Standing in a crowd, yet isolated and alone.
Too frightened to reach out, too numb to move on.

Show me the direction, the mission I'm to take.
Pull me from this despair, this nightmare I must wake.

Confusion becomes normal, the mind loses control.
Day to day is a struggle, dormant is the soul.

Hollow is the hope, greater becomes the fear.
The comfort I long for, to feel your presence near.

Willing to trust completely, willing to put down my sword.
Allowing you to fight my battle, completely surrendering, O Lord.

What am I to do? Shame controls my voice.

Can anyone help me? A child with no choice.

You've robbed me of my innocence, left my body bruised and battered.

Only cared to fulfill your perverted needs, the damage you caused never mattered.

Why can't you hear my screams, see the blackness surrounding me?

It's true I never said a word, looking beyond the surface is the key.

Much easier to pretend it isn't there, such ugly secrets and endless shame.

Leaving the pain for the child to bear, please save me from this perverted game.

Tired of living a lie, smiling so you don't see the pain.
Taking care of everyone else, careful never to complain.
Tired of the masquerade, this mask is smothering me.
Boxed in by defenses, surrounded by debris.
Tired of the darkness, crippled by fear.
Afraid to open the curtain, even though light is near.
Tired of being scared, shame just seems to multiply.
Frightened of losing control, if I allow myself to cry.
Tired of being tired, there must be a better way.
Can't continue to do this alone, not sure of what to say.
Tired of feeling alone, overwhelmed with disgust.
Do I risk another try, whom do I trust?

A caterpillar inches its way down the bark of a rough and hard life. Slowly it traveled a long distance, looking back it can see the gap needed to be much wider away from where its been. It yearns to rest, but dares not for the fear of what it may loose. Its will is strong, knowing there is a place that it belongs. Something it must do, something else it must become. As it travels, learning what it is searching for, the bark suddenly looks greener, the path becomes smoother. It centers itself for a long rest, wrapping itself up with wisdom and knowledge, preparing itself to become more powerful and most of all more beautiful. And in return, it was reborn with wings and it took flight with such beauty and grace that when others viewed it, they gave back in return the awe of creation.

When is a man, not a man?

When is a child not a child?

When the man thinks the child is a toy for Him to use
When the child doesn't realize the game is abuse

When is a tear a traitorous thing?

When does a cry signal the failure it brings?

When the tear causes only pain not relief
When the cry can never bring any peace

When does a hug seem more like a fight?

When is a kiss taken as a right?

                                               When the hug is to stop not help when the kiss is used to silence a yelp

When is it going to end?

When will that child find a true friend?

When the pain is no more and freedom is nigh
And when love can soar high

Only then can these questions disperse
Only then can someone lift the curse
Only then shall the child smile again
Only then can the healing begin.

Maybe one day...maybe I can get there....

full of love,and hope,and joy

Full of pride for one another

Yes, there was also pain

But the pain was not physical, like in some families.

And the love was tangible -

Love enough to make a broken child love again.

Thank you.

When the sun was shinning he was the perfect father, In the light of day, he was the scoutmaster and involved and as loving as any other father could be, but after the stars came to call he became the monster of her nightmare.

So where does this gentle, loving, caring man go? Is it her imagination, did she dream it all.

If she told anyone about the monster, would they believe her, how could they when to the world he showed that he was one of the greatest fathers around?

Everyone thought he was so great, so it had to be her fault that he would come into her room and steal her innocence and make her cry.

What is a child to think if they have a daytime and nighttime father?

Should he believe the daytime father? That she was the apple of his eye.

Or the nighttime father who came and treated her with such hatred and pain?

Who is real? She wishes it were the daytime father, but knows it is the nighttime one.

I have kept your secret, eating away at my existence. Ashamed of what you did to me, I rationalized--I must have made you mad--and placed those feelings back on the shelf labeled self destruction.