There was a time telling my truth was hard,
Stuck between sinking or swimming looking for a lifeguard.
It was weighted, and heavy slowly pulling me down,
But I thought if I open my mouth, for sure I’ll drown.
That you wouldn’t hear me but find holes in my story,
Throwing Daggered questions at me as punishment in this reformatory.
I have the Vivid memories, I’ve tried to make blurry,
Then there’s backlash from the self appointed jury.
But You DO know hurt people, hurt people that’s a fact,
I’ve done my share of hurting, but no never that.
See I’m not on trial just telling my truth,
Trying to create a better future, One that protects our youth!
My hope is that by sharing “This happened to me”,
Helps you realize it was never your fault so stop feeling guilty.
Because I won’t let them discredit you, it doesn’t matter when it occurred,
We’re not speaking because we’re spoken too, we’re dying to be heard.
I’ve extended my heart to you with words cleverly placed,
With each line hope you feel my love in a tight embrace.
At first it’s hard not knowing how to push through,
But YOU ARE A SURVIVOR , I know because I’m a survivor too.

I was sexually abused when I was a child,
the only light at the end of that tunnel,
is that it wasn’t done,
by a family member,

but it was done,
and I don’t even remember,
as much as Christine Blasey Ford does,
nor have I ever had to testify,

all I remember was the taste of that ****,
and how it taste like buried secrets,
the way they ferment and rot,
when lodged in the gut and not allowed to surface,

see we’ve all been abused,
and not a single one of us deserved it,
so now we serve this life sentence of guilty regret-ness,
which in turn as positioned me in service,

oh America The Beautiful,
when did we become so broken,
everyone’s got a story,
of either being abused or abusing,

watched the Judge Kavanaugh hearing,
watched Dr. Christine struggle to retell her tale,
under the glaring lights of the TV cameras,
under the glaring stare of a bunch of older white males,

I mean let’s put it into perspective,
here is a lady who’s held this secret for years,
and then in an instant she was broadcast worldwide,
for the whole world to hear,

her life will never be the same,
she’s admitted her most private moments to the public,
and all because to the highest court in the country,
this demon from her past is about to be appointed,

and I don’t know what my point is,
maybe I don’t have one,
like a lonely kid,
who’s only role model is a fictional superhero,

because he doesn’t have an honorable father,

a lonely kid,
who’s only friend is his pet dog,
that he takes faithfully with him,
we he goes on walks just to get lost,

doesn’t have a destination,
still he feels like he’s in a rush,
can’t focus his attention and is always impatient,
and don’t know where to go and only wants to find the love,

and when he tries to speak up to tell someone what’s up,
he’s just dismissed as ignorant and told to hush,
and what does it mean when a ****** predator,
has the title of Judge,

how can someone that acts so immorally,
be put in a position to weigh the scales of justice evenly,
maybe there’s no right and wrong anyways,
maybe nothing is for certain and there are no guarantees,

maybe,
maybe not,
but I do know one thing for certain,
wherever I go the trauma from my past is brought,

because I was sexually abused when I was a child,
and the only light at the end of that tunnel,
is that it wasn’t done,
by a family member…

∆ LaLux ∆

Fog-grey paint on wood…
Sentry!
Imprisons willing hostage…
Safe!
It jars - jams handle door to floor
Uterine prison seals hermetic hermit

The fawn as naked innocent born.
Cow mother forages for food…
To earn!
Boy buck lay prone; ears twitch.
Waiting to exhale.
Wolf pants foul -  
turn handle -
entry permit?

On eves gone by wolf violates fawn.
Cow mother oblivious in her providing!
Crept in!
Kneeled!
As fawn feigned sleep…
Lupus leered, licked - abused like prey

This night young deer escapes the hunt
Lays quiet, tremulous.
Wets itself!
Chair holds!
Patriarchal coward creeps back to fetid lair
Brief reprieve?
Grow strong - pray another day!

©pofacedpoetry – Billy Reynard-Bowness (2018) – All rights reserved

The demons just want me to be dead,
They want to bury the secrets in my head,
Sunlight kills their dark souls,
And there's no light to hold,
I'd give anything for a savior,
Give my firstborn as a favor,
I just want to not fight for every breath,
To not fight inside my own head,
I'm so tired, so tired, so tired,
And the voices multiply like a choir,
They tell me what to say,
To make everyone think I'm okay,
But inside I'm punching myself over and over,
And I try to quiet it by not being sober,

But you can't stay high forever,
I always nose dive and take a header,
Straight into the ground of which I bleed upon,
This life just seems played out and done,

I'd pray to God if I didn't think he'd forsaken,
This child of which followed him with other children,
But then I found the dark side of life,
The kind that has no spark of life,
Who's dull eyes stare out from sunken skulls,
Knees aching on basement floors,
Don't be fooled by the bible,
The devil is a female,
And she takes innocence,
While faking she's innocent,
So beware of golden hair,
And skin that's fair,
Because it'll make you wish for death,
For the rest of your entire life,

But you can't stay high forever,
I always nose dive and take a header,
Straight into the ground of which I bleed upon,
This life just seems played out and done.

Little girl with the large, dark eyes.
Adorable & innocent, nothing to sexualize.
Man in black with the twisted mind.
Never thought or perhaps cared just how much he would put this little girls life in a bind.
She did not speak for a long time.
No recollection but over time, there's things she would find.
No justice was delivered.
No recognition, it seems.
Everyone has buried the trash.
No more talk about the past.
Hush, hush.
Woman with the large, dark eyes.
She holds anger & silently cries.
Hush, hush.
Keep it all inside.

every 98 seconds
a person is shattered like a piece of glass
or perhaps in the view of the perpetrator,
used and discarded like a piece of trash

Have you ever stared
at a blank piece of paper
for so long
it starts turning into
a concert of unanswered questions
posed by a teenager
who is awakened
about his sexuality
which was long repressed
under the secrets
he was asked to keep
the things he had to hide
the pain he slid under the carpet
with a smile on his face
he was no snitch
he liked keeping
the paper blank
he was a good boy
who could keep things with him
the boy was in deep sleep,
that boy, he was in deep sleep,
and now he is awake
he knows what he lost
he knows what's good and
what's bad
he knows
the world will question him
why he didn't speak earlier
why now
why now
why now
the world will eat him up
but he knows at this point
nothing matters to him more
than what he lost
than what is ahead
give me my childhood
give me my childhood
give me my childhood
he screams
he stutters
he cries
I am done
I am awake
I am free
it's time to color this page black
it's time to turn the page.