The Traumatised Child

The pain of all your suffering

is felt in every verse.

Stretched across the page,

traumatised from birth.

Salty tears are mixed with ink,

and yet invisible.

Telling your story of

childhood not reversible.

Your family don’t know you,

born into original sin.

Your mother turned a blind eye,

just because of him.

I see it in all your tiny cracks,

they’re very clear to me.

You lay down in your writing,

so that all of us can see.

Now you choose to write it down,

a ploy to get it out.

It’s really buried deeper,

won’t come up if you shout.

There are those who look away,

they don’t want to know.

What’s with all the writing,

is there some place you could go.

Believe me when I tell you,

I’ve so much respect for you.

For the days you live right now,

the traumatised child too.

*

lizalizaskysaregrey©2016

Dedicated to a friend but also to all those who write about early experiences of trauma and pain.  I have so much admiration for you, your doing your way and I applaud you from the bottom of my heart.