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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I can hear grandma’s voice now, “she’s such a beautiful little girl…” What was it about me that gave him attraction? Only a sick old man could find sexual satisfaction- Six years old was I when my innocence was stolen, my essence once whole, then left in sheer fractions. He was the prodigal man, the boy made of golden. I can hear grandma’s voice now, “what happened to my sweet granddaughter?” From where did he learn such pleasurable abuse? He was a monster at best, dense and obtuse- I’ll never forget the first time he pinned me down, I was so little and weak as I tried to refuse, in solitude I wept, forever wearing a frown. I can hear grandma’s voice now, “she used to be such a good little girl…” I turned nine and still held onto this harm in silence, too young to realize the effects of his violence- I was wounded on the inside and outside had scars, turning into a sassy girl full of disrespect and defiance. He would finish with me then go smoke his cigar. I can hear grandma’s voice now, “oh you rude girl, my son would never do that!” She never listened to me as I carried this cross, and losing my grandma became my greatest loss- She turned her back on me, I never saw her again, she used to love me, was my absolute best friend. His harm broke us, and our relationship paid the cost. I can hear my grandma say on her deathbed, “sweet girl, I’m so sorry…for I too was a victim” Why would she avoid my pain from his pleasure? I guess she was threatened by him beyond measure- Oh, I wish I could rip off his hands and throw them away, my life should’ve been a gift, an undamaged treasure. Now I live with the guilt and shame every single day. I can hear the Lord say, “my sweet child, forgiveness is the key, rest assured in darkness hold onto me- When your fear takes a turn for the worse, I pray only My light you shall see, always hold My hand and put Me first. Let's talk about it contest August 1, 2017
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