Memories Warning-Possible Trigger For Sexual Abuse Victims
The memories pull her down,
Like the undertow.
Drowning.
Suffocating.
She tries to fight it,
But it’s of no use.
She feels dirty, fat, victimized, defiled,
Extorted, broken, and ugly.
She can feel their hands on her
The unwelcome touches and gestures.
She feels small, defenseless, vulnerable, violated.
Their taunts, threats, lies, and commands fill her ears.
She covers herself with multiple layers of clothing,
But no matter how many she has on
She can still feel them.
She covers her ears,
But no matter how hard she presses her hands
She can still hear them.
She relives it all
Every day and every night.
She’s terrified to sleep.
Terrified to live.
The nightmares are relentless.
The flashbacks, torture.
When will it stop?
When will it end?
Will it ever be over?
The memories escape from her eyes
And stream down her face.
She tries to stuff the memories
Back into their closets
And the demons back into the abyss
That some would call her soul.
But she’s too tired,
Too weak,
Too exhausted,
Too devastated.
She shuts her eyes
And locks them tight,
Like the door to a prison cell.
She crawls to the darkest corner of her mind,
Curls up in a ball,
And waits,
Yet again,
For it all to be over.
Copyright © Brynn Rose | Year Posted 2016
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