A Child Insane
By: Connie SpectorThe odor of his cologne sickened me,
A reminder of the pain.
His beady eyes he used to see
The child he drove insane.
It was the sting of his sweat
I remember the most
Dripping onto my head
Which struck the bed post.He hurt me every single day
As he forced himself on me
He never let me stray away
From what he wished to see.He let me know he was in charge
And the odor let me know he was there.
He was ugly, powerful, and increasingly large.
And with his eyes at me he’d stare.I knew what was coming now,
I knew it would hurt.
He sounded like a dirty sow
He made me feel like dirt.The pain finally stopped one day
At long last, when I was eighteen.
I left the hell I was living
Carrying with me the abuse I’d seen.It took me thirty years to stop
Blaming myself for the pain.
I can live free from guilt and self-hatred
And I finally can feel that I’m sane.Copyright 2002 © Connie Spector
Please send any comments on this piece to:
SurvivorHaven@yahoo.com~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Return To:
The Winter 2003 Issue
Survivor Haven's Homepage