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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required ~Collaboration with Silent One~ Laura Loo's Poem: PART I- A child thinking about running away Neglected…unprotected… frayed from the inside impaired…nobody cared… I have no mother to nourish my unhealthy soul. My father loved the bottle and the bruises combined with my mental wounds brought forth contused abrasions. Free me, please, free me… I am only a little girl who has dreams that only a little girl can dream. I am seeing that no matter what direction I walk I will always be in constant frantic fear. I am never going to be the little girl I should be. I am going to grow to be shameful as my innocence was stolen at such a young age. I had no concentration with too much recognizable pain. I started to skip classes. It began when the verbal distress grew worse. The damage caused so much pain I fell to the ground ragged and mangled. Insults. belt buckles. wooden sticks. If I make a decision to show a smile, I’ll be crying on the inside. If I choose to laugh, I’ll be drowning in panic internally. I am so tired…tired of my concealed sorrow. Beyond the depth of nothingness, my silence lives inside a tomb. I have become two separate girls. One girl was bright and blameless with purity in her spirit. The other girl was battered and alone with no guidance, only abuse. Surprisingly, I felt my life was worth saving and I knew my decision may bring me peace and safety. Packing one bag…packing two books…packing my teddy. I knew in my heart it was the only way to escape the inferno of my father’s torment... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Silent One's Poem: PART II- A runaway child Mind made up, house disappeared into obscurity, wind howled as rain gushed; but there was no going back. Regret sets in as fear culminates, ironically wanting my father to find me - he does not come. The world seems so big - I feel so small, like a mouse hiding from sly predators. Penniless, scared, cold and hungry; wandering unknown streets - searching warm sanctuary. In desperation, forced to commit acts no 15 year old should ever experience. Days on the street, lead to months.. Stained clothes - unwashed; dirty like a rat. Frantically searching to belong - marginally surviving. Don't know where to turn or who to trust, violated in a world of abuse. Wondering what I ever did to deserve this. Wishing I had never ran away. Date Written: April 26, 2016
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