When I was ten, my daddy-Monster carried me out of the Pacific Ocean, yet failed to rescue me.
Ten years old:
One decade of domestic violence.
One decade of explosive terror –
from daddy-Monster.
My parents drive us
to Southern California
to visit relatives
and enjoy the ocean.
I swim to deep water.
I enjoy the chaotic surf.
Suddenly, a wave crashes over me
and sends me to the bottom.
I scramble to the surface
just in time for another wave
to send me back to the bottom.
I keep my calm
and hold my position
for a short time,
then surface after the third wave.
I swim and run
back to shallow water and safety.
Daddy-Monster grabs me and carries me
all the way back to shore.
Hello daddy-Monster.
You’ll rescue me from the waves.
You’ll rescue me from any other danger.
I’m willing to overlook
that you rescued me
after I no longer needed rescue.
But I live with one question
which I dare not speak:
“Who will rescue me from you???”
– Healing Heart Warrior