(Trauma Warning!)
Fourteen years old:
I’m in bed for the night,
but still awake.
Daddy-Monster enters my room.
I pretend to be asleep.
He pinches my nose closed with his fingers.
I open my mouth to breathe.
He covers my mouth with his hand.
All breath is blocked.
I begin to struggle; he exits the room.
I have never seen him move so fast.
I lie in bed stunned, and I think:
This is normal for him.
This is expected behavior.
I am not surprised.
Next morning at breakfast,
daddy-Monster and I eat together.
Normally gregarious, he says nothing.
I dare not bring it up.
Silence, eerie silence as I eat.
Powerful and lifeless silence.
I have no words.
He has no words.
Confirmation that he never wanted me.
My birth disrupted his life.
My life, meaningless to him.
My life, extinguishable to him.
I know that I should be angry,
but nothing rises within.
Too numb to be upset.
Too numb to be scared.
Detached from my heart,
I’m a spectator to the threat.
I quietly finish my breakfast,
then walk to school.
I walk the hallways
and sit in the classrooms
and open my books
as if in a trance.
None of my classmates,
none of my teachers
have any clue
about my reality,
about the dark silence
of my existence.
This event,
mysterious and chilling,
I bury deep
within the catacombs
of my memory –
to be locked away
for decades.
– Healing Heart Warrior
Tom M.