Long Ago
2011-09-06

Long ago, someone put their hands on me.
I didn�t deserve it, and they didn�t earn it.
They reached deep inside
to the very heart;
and like stringy pulp, with seeds and juice and gore,
yanked out a very precious part.
Ever since, I�ve searched those depths
wondering how I might get it back.
Many wrongs were done to me,
though I�ve seen so little time.
But nothing compares to what was stolen.
Nothing compares to what was mine.
So not long after
I�d been gutted and torn,
I dug my little girl nails into my skin
I saw it then,
A tiny blue ribbon-
My hope that there might be something
still left inside.
Ever since, I�ve been searching.
Soon nails became steel
and iron and sheer terror and pain.
I was going to sink deeper,
to find it all again.
Razors and pins and knives.
And questions,
always questions.
I drew out the inside
to find my way back in.
Red and blue, red and blue,
pale and thin.
These words are no more my truth
than the scars I bare.
And now I can�t seem to hold it back�
The violence of so long ago,
during the crushing of my soul.
Still, I am the target.
Still, I am the victim.
Still, I cannot still my rage.
I wonder
what word,
what drop of blood,
which tear
will be the one that makes it better.
That finally gives me here
and now;
not then, not ever.
The truth is someone put their hands on me
And for all I�ve survived,
all that�s been broken inside
all I have left is me.

Me, who I do not know.

 

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