Saturday, September 22, 2012

Therapy

Dave, this is a poem I wrote about my own experience.  Poetry isn't something I normally delve into but the first psych I ever saw set me the task as part of my therapy.

STOLEN INNOCENCE

Jolt awake. Cold sweat running down your back.
The nightmare never fading – it’s real.
Fall back into uneasy sleep.
The years fly backwards
Back towards your innocent childhood.
A bright sunny afternoon
Laughter haunts a gentle breeze.
A friend takes on a stranger’s face
Hands suddenly roaming everywhere
They rip and tear your innocence away,
They weave the thread of future nightmares.
Self esteem plummets, confusion skyrockets.
A new experience – “Am I being bad?”
Days, maybe weeks flash by
Laughter haunts a gentle breeze
You run, trying to hide as the countdown begins
You panic – she’ll find you first.
A cupboard door opens in your bedroom,
A hand gestures you inside.
You accept the stranger’s offer.
You sit, cramped, hoping you aren’t found.
The stranger’s heartbeat thumps loudly in your ear.
You squirm, this isn’t right.
So uncomfortable, you can’t breathe…
Eyes fly open, a scream in your throat.
You pull yourself out of bed and run
As a wave of nausea rolls over you.
Your stomach is emptied but your mind isn’t
“Please God, please take the memories away.”
As the day dawns you steel yourself,
Steel yourself for another day of
Living without your stolen innocence.

4 comments:

painprime said...

Gentle,gentle,*gentle* hugs. :-)

Shawna said...

*hugs*

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