Come on, Come on. Just keep breathing.

I swear I can be more.
I swear I can be more
then the sad little girl who cries because of dark closets and people that tell her
"be good, im not in the mood. i dont want to hear a sound. Lay back now."

I know I have to provide more to the world than an American Statistic.
More than another victim of a dysfuntional home.
More than another client to a therapist in my mid-thirties,
telling me things I already know about fearing older men.

I really need to get over myself.

It seems to be all my fault,
and I am blaming the wrong people.
Its all on my shoulders,
all inside my head,
I decide
and my judgment is skewed.
"I promise I wont hurt you if you dont cry. Its your decision, do you want me to hurt you?"

Today...I feel as if the sky is caving in.
The stars are falling to the ground
and the earth is constantly shattering.
His fingerprints harshly burnt into my skin.
Out of them all he is the worst. Out of them all he is the worst. Out of them all he is the worst.
Today the floors were unusually cold
along with his stares
I try to stay away from him
simply because
out of them all he is the worst
I lie and say that I go to sleep
Hour 138 of no sleep.
You think its not possible, it is...and I am light headed.
Almost 6 days...
almost 6 days....
What I do instead should not be known
and is something I do not choose...
but has to be done.


I am not my own, its not my choice.

So now I take all 5 spare rooms in this overpowering household, alternate between rooms and closets, and spend all day in hiding. Writing articles, poems, words, letters...and taping them all over the walls.

No one has noticed...