for almost 30 years
my trauma of what my father did to me
still haunts me
one time, I was asleep,
dreaming,
I saw a child being beaten by my father
as it turns out, I am that child
and an adult me, stood from afar, frozen
cannot move, cannot speak

as if, it was a reminder for me to see
that not everything is meant to be forgotten
even I could not distinguish it
that am I in my dreams or in reality?
It felt surreal,
since dreams are just an imitation or mimicry of the reality
It was hard for me to fathom
why did these things happen?
Is there a purpose?
Or is it for a reason?

my battle scars are still there
how I wish that the young me
is not all bruised and abused

I wish someone out there helped me
when they heard me screaming for help
but they were too afraid to come by

In his eyes, I can see
that he did not love me
Is his definition of love about abuse?
or is it a mere facade he masks

every time I look at him as my father
he was never a father, but a figure
that every time, I see him
holding a knife, a belt or anything sharp
to whip or hurt me
I shiver from the memory
by thinking about it
it gave me horror

I built up my walls so high
I built my standards so high
that no one could ever climb on
to ruin it for me
but it did break down
until I met her.

everything changed,
every kiss and hug feel like home
a comfort I was longing to find
that even if it led me to unfamiliar places
meet a lot of different faces
she is still that woman that gave me joy
that gave me light
loved and accepted me
embraced me as a whole,
though I felt shattered and incomplete
but without her, life was meaningless.

That was when I decided to say that she is the one for me.