The battle in my head
It goes like this…

You know you wanted it.
I was not old enough to know what it was. When I was, I said no. He never listened…

I went to him even when he did not ask. I am at fault.
I loved him. I believed his lies. I trusted him. I did not know it was abuse.

I am dramatic. I am emotional. I am over-reacting.
He stole my innocence. He stole my childhood. I have every right to be this way.

He did not mean to hurt me. He loves me, maybe he just did not know how to show it.
That is not love. That is abuse. I was a child. I was not responsible.

Stop whining. Stop complaining. There are others out there who have it worse then you.
He bruised my faith. He destroyed my feelings of worth.

He loved me. He did not mean to hurt me.
It does not matter if he meant to or not…the truth is he did.

How sick and mess up must I be? I still care about him.
It is natural to be confused and conflicted. He is family.

Most of the time I did not say no or fight him. So I was telling him it was okay.
He was manipulating a child. I was confused. I did not know how to say no.

I must have wanted it. I must have led him on.
No matter what I did, he was the adult. He was not supposed to do those things. He was wrong. I was the child.

It was so long ago. How can I still be mad at him?
He manipulated my emotions. He was my daddy. You are supposed to obey and trust your father. He is not supposed to lie to you or do bad things.

Other people have been through worse. It could have been worse. So it's not really a big deal.
It was bad enough. I am entitled to feel violated. Trauma is trauma - pain is not a competition.

I should be over this by now.
There is no time limit on healing.
I must just be doing this for the attention.
If I wanted attention I would be telling everyone. I can barely talk about this.

I made him angry
So what? It doesn't make what he did okay

I am just imagining it.
I remember what he felt like when he touched me or made me touch him. I can still feel the weight of his heavy body on my child sized one. I can still smell his breath.  I cannot be making these feelings up.

The little girl inside
Still cries for protection.
But there is no one is sight.
Dark and quiet is the room
Then a creaking of the door
And with the noise, an evil looms.
I am not safe anymore
Or any less than before.
And in my heart, years later,
I still, sometimes, do not feel any safer.

Innocence splintered in just one second.
Teardrops stained the bed of roses.
Cries screamed out from the ignorant.
Purity taken along with her voice.
Stripped down to just empty sighs.
Slammed against the walls of seclusion.
Trust disappears with ***** promised secrets.
Ripped apart until pieces are left.
Gathering up the broken life bits.
Together they make a complex puzzle.
They are still alone for now.
Jagged edges are hard to force.

I thought about calling someone, anyone
I thought it would help to talk
But what do you say
When all the pain has this way
Of shutting you up
In your own personal Hell.
The silence grows, ringing in my ears
But I like it that way.
It is so much easier to hide
When the pain stays inside.
I do not want to talk to someone that does not know
Someone that has never tasted the wound.
I do not want their pity
Or their, "It'll get better."
I do not cry and that is not a lie
I break and scream
And try to remain unseen.
Do you really want to know?
Do you really want to feel it?
Let it burn you
Let it cut into you.
Do not ask me if I am okay
When you already know the answer.
Let me sleep without the agony
Of your worry.
God, let me sleep
Let me wake and deal with another day
In just the same way.
Biting and breaking the surface
Of each second reminding me I never really change.
I just rearrange things until they seem right.
Oh, God, let me sleep
And dream of better things.

Trapped in this mind
An impossible box
No escape from the madness.

Tiny locks everywhere
None of the keys fit
Failed attempts at happiness.

Was I born with it?
Did it happen out of nowhere?
No answers to be found.

Every part of my being aches
An insatiable urge to end it
Sweet freedom escapes me.

Crying alone in the dark
No longer able to function
Hit the exit button now.

If there is a god
Surely a supreme being
Offers no punishment

No justification for being here
I am not the one who leaves
Always the one to be left.

They leave one by one
Some by death
Some by betrayal.

The space gets lonelier
It gets colder
It closes in on me.

Suffocating under the weight
Of a sadness that never ceases
Overtaking my heart and mind.

I feel like I am in constant state of falling. Like when you are having a dream and you fall off a cliff, and then you wake up kicking and trying to grab hold of something. That is how I feel when I am awake. The ground just suddenly shifts out from under me and I fall. I am constantly kicking and grabbing. Searching for something or someone to save me. But I just keep falling.

I am falling into a never ending tunnel. I am being swallowed up by the earth. These dark memories of him wash over me and I start to fall to my death. I am falling. As I fall I remember his lies. As I fall I feel his touch.  As I fall I see him watching me. As I fall I hear his voice making promises he could not keep. I am falling. There is nothing, no one to save me.
I am searching for something or someone to save me. But I just keep falling.

I am so tired of kicking and fighting. The constant searching for that thing to save me. What if I am wasting all my time and energy just grabbing at thin air? I wait and I wait and I wait for the end…the big SMACK. The sound it will make when I have stopped falling. Then will all this pain be over but that never happens.
I am searching for something or someone to save me. But I just keep falling.

Something always pulls me back up, briefly I regain my footing. But why? Why can the pain not just be over? What is saving me when I cannot even save myself? Why am I here fighting so hard every day, fighting so hard just to exist? Breathing and existing, carrying on in this world takes so much effort.
I am searching for something or someone to save me. But I just keep falling.

Why am I fighting so hard? What if forever I stay broken, hurt, sad, and unsure? What if this is my forever? Each day breathing and existing…carrying on only to have him come back and hurt me again. What is my purpose for fighting so hard? I wish someone could tell me….stop the perpetual fall.
I am searching for something or someone to save me. But I just keep falling.

Why am I fighting so hard? Help me understand. Tell me that one day things will be okay. One day I will be stronger, wiser, and braver.  And soon I won't feel like I'm falling anymore but like I am solidly placed in this world. That my life has a meaning, that all my fighting, and suffering, and searching, and agony was not in vain.
But for now I am searching for something or someone to save me…I just keep falling.

The contrast of shiny steel and dark crimson, the contrast of man and metal. Tonight the blade will once again free the blood that is restrained by my skin. Sitting on the floor, with my legs pulled close, I cannot wait to feel the rush of the calm. It is rushing through my mind right now, blocking out all other thoughts. The exquisite yet simple pain of the cold steel parting my skin. Watching the layers of my skin part under the pressure, feeling my pulse push the blood up through the cut. Then gravity pulling it down along my skin until it finally hits the floor. The calmness slows down time, giving me a chance to watch the blood drops form, then fall to the cold,hard floor below. The tip of a droplet hits the tile, the force of the impact creating a smaller ring of droplets that strain against the gravity, soon to be overcome, and pulled downward. The next drop contributing to the rippling pool of crimson love on the floor. I cannot pull my eyes away from the pool of blood on the floor. The drops now starting to fall faster, fast enough that I cannot see the individual drops, that I cannot distinguish them from the previous ones. Once the individuality of the drops cannot be seen, I cut no more. For now the angry creature inside me is spent, he has no more tales to tell. The drops start to come slower now, seemingly holding on to my body before they drop. As if, they know they are falling without reason now. Finally the flow stops, my pulse is slow, my breathing relaxed.