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Victoria Payne Poem
When Your Daughter is a Victim
When your daughter is a victim,
you tip-toe around your words,
you avoid the subject,
you become fearful for her.
When your Daughter is a victim and she lied to you about it
for seven years.
you feel guilty as you see her struggle to face her inner demons.
You stand speechless, not knowing what to say as you watch her crumble in front of you.
you feel helpless that in that moment seven years ago,
you believed what she said when you asked.
When your daughter is a victim,
you can never look at the same way.
you try but to you she looks like that 14 year old girl,
Lost.
Scared.
Confused.
When your daughter is a victim you try to get her father to open up and talk to her about it,
but he wont.
He feels like a failure because he let such a terrible thing happen to his baby girl.
he pulls away.
He shows no support.
When your daughter is a victim you push and you reach out as much as you can because it hurts to see her in so much pain.
you feel horrified that such a thing could take her to the point,
the point that she wanted to take her own life.
When your daughter is a victim,
you do your research so you can try to know exactly what to say when she needs it the most.
you seek justice for her but she won't let you.
you raised her to be proud.
When your daughter is a victim you take matters into your own hands.
you don't want it to happen to anyone else, so you tell the principal of that highschool.
She is furious, angry, but she wont tell you.
she knows you came from a place of love and fear.
When your daughter is a victim you do everything you can to make it right.
to pick up her pieces that are scattered across the ground.
you try to put her back together and turn her back into that sweet innocent 14 year old she was before her boyfriend raped her.
When your daughter is a victim,
she wont let you because she is happy with who she has become,
that strong confident 21 year old woman who bears her scars
with PRIDE
and RESILIANCE.
-Victoria/ 2016
Copyright © Victoria Payne | Year Posted 2016
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Victoria Payne Poem
Why Bother
I think I am going to get out of bed,
and I sit and ponder,
Why?
Why Bother?
I watch myself allowing my time in this to short life to be wasted.
Simply thinking about getting out of bed.
I eventually do get out of bed and begin my day with a steaming hot shower.
I watch myself turn the knob and make the water hotter than I can stand.
it scalds my flesh, but relaxes my soul.
And now I am beginning my day.
I think I should get in my car and hit the road early to a void traffic,
and I do.
I sit gripping the steering wheel tightly, staring at the tail lights in front of me, hating the fact that once again I am wasting precious time in this ever so short life.
As I walk the cold fluorescent lit halls of the hospital,
I question whether or not I am ready,
ready to face my demons.
And I do.
As I enter the dark room they are there.
Waiting.
Red eyes glowing.
Teeth showing.
Snarling.
As if they are ready to rip me limb from limb.
And I have been here before.
Each time.
They WIN.
I think, this time will be different,
And it is.
I have mustered my courage,
My pride,
and my confidence.
I walk into battle.
I have been here before,
But this time.
IT. IS. DIFFERENT.
Copyright © Victoria Payne | Year Posted 2016
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