You grew up in a terrifying house
Full of screams and violence
Your father beating you and his spouse
Until it brought submission and silence
I could sense it in you
I wanted to help you, it’s true
I know that inside you there’s a hurt child
A fragile boy that became hostile
But your childhood trauma turned you into him
You became what you swore you'd never be
Your bright light slowly grew dim
Revealing the monster you hid within thee
Even so, my compassion got the best of me
I gave up all of me to save thee
In exchange, you slowly drowned me
Draining my light and life
I didn’t know you were my enemy
The worst monster I’ve ever seen
I look into your eyes
And I’m safe
And I’m six years old
And you tell me there is no God
And I’m twelve
And my parents are driving home in opposite directions
Hey little girl.
Upon hearing what teenage you had to go through, you gaped
On realizing how bold I’ve become, I gasped.
I want you to know that it is okay.
If I had to say something to you about where I am today
It would be who knew.
Who knew that you would be depressed at the age of 13
Stuck between being emotional and emotionless.
Who knew you would discover the power in forgiveness at the age of 18?
Who knew you would master the art of letting go at the age of 19?
Deep wounds heal but leave permanent scars.
And I live with an inedible image of battles I had fought
Till this day 5-year-old me who had dreams and a fairy-tale life planned still lives
You still live at the back of my mind; I still hear your voice
Reciting all your dreams like you did at 5
I wrote this letter to let you know that I am setting teenage you free, I am finally allowing her to heal.
I wake and feel my body speak before my mind—
a knot in the gut, a pulse in the throat,
something twisting, but with no word to match it.
It’s like being haunted by emotions I cannot name,
ghosts tugging the curtains, unseen, unspoken.
When my mother wept, I watched her mouth move
and felt only a vacancy in my chest,
as if the room where love should echo
was padded, soundproof.
I learned to survive by silence—
to keep the storm behind glass,
to let my face be still while the air burned.
There was never language for the ache
that came when someone said, I love you,
only a pause, a small, embarrassed smile,
as if they’d asked me to translate thunder.
What caused it?—
years of swallowing what could not be said,
a father’s voice that made feelings dangerous,
a mother’s grief that had no door.
It is the body closing shop for the night
while the heart keeps working in the dark,
sorting the unspeakable into bones and breath.
And still, some days,
I can almost hear the words behind the wound—
tiny animals scratching to get out,
the first syllables of the self I never learned to name.
A bedroom door that never locked,
Footsteps heavy like thunderclocks,
Mother's wine glass, cracked and red,
Words that bruised more than fists ever did.
A closet full of whispered screams,
Apologies lost in fevered dreams,
Father's belt, a sermon preached,
Love, a language never reached.
A dog buried in silence deep,
Secrets traded instead of sleep,
Schoolyard eyes like hunting knives,
Laughter echoing butchered lives.
The smell of ash, of plastic burned,
Lessons no one else had learned,
The joy of breaking dolls in two,
Just to feel a shadow move.
Windows rattled by unseen guilt,
Churches built where lies were spilt,
A hand too firm, a voice too loud,
Praise withheld like poisoned shrouds.
The grin he wore was not his own,
But stitched from pain he’d never shown,
And in the attic of his skull,
He catalogued what makes life dull.
Not born of hell, nor born insane,
But carved by years of steady pain—
And now the world must guess his name.
You senselessly hurt me,
Then, demand I do not cry.
You frustrate me,
Then, unsympathetically, punish my display of anger.
You ridicule me,
Then, taunt me when I strive to win your approval.
You swear long-standing tribal love and protection,
Then, crush my small, unprotected heart with indifference.
You set impossible goals,
Then, painstakingly dismantle my ego.
You demonstrate blatant distain,
Then, draw me inside your dark, secret circle.
You demand the obscene use of my disempowered sheath,
Then, discard the confused Soul indwelling.
Who taught you how to love on the Dark Side?
Were you not once also a child,
Alone, and frightened in the whispering darkness?
Did you not once also smile, laugh and sing?
Who taught you to hide your innocence,
In the filmy guise of unrequited bravery?
A young female child cries hauntingly,
In the background of my dreams.
If children learn what they live,
Who taught you to love on the Dark Side?
Chula Fleming© 10/16 2016
I've always been described as mature,
yet not many know I grew up too fast,
for trauma broke an innocent girl,
her innocence,
her happiness.
So many earths to unearth....
worlds that define my history
like a geological time capsule;
you see,
I hid them from seas
of terror
in a world of fear.
I shoveled them down
for years,
until I forgot how they look like.
Sometimes I exhume them
for remembrance,
only to crowd my mind
with unnecessary mess
all over again......
To all the kids that had it rough
That when you were behind your home's walls, things got tough
Hearing your parent's screams bounce off the walls.
Listening through the cracks, their spiteful words making you fall
To all the kids that love the most
Even though they weren't given an example at home
Seeing shattered plates and broken bones
You couldn't tell anyone, you were so alone
To all the oldest siblings that had to be strong
and shield your younger siblings from the terrors on your home turf
You didn't even get to be a child
At a young age, you were no longer naive and in denial
To all the kids that remembered everything
All the scars inflicted and all the tears shed
All your screams and cries are muffled by the pillow in your bed.
All the words you wanted to shout out but were left unsaid.
I am so sorry for what you went through you didn't deserve it the least.
You were only a child supposed to have good memories within reach
But what was exposed to our fragile bodies and mind
Might haunt you till the end of time.
Substance or alcohol abuse,
Number one.
Joins a gang and carries a
Gun.
Makes bad decisions,
Impulsive.
Appears nervous,
Often disruptive.
Irresponsible with life
And finances.
Takes a lot of risky
Chances.
High emotions, no emotions,
No in-between.
Always in trouble,
Can't get clean.
Inability to process the highs
And lows.
Running against the way the
Wind blows.
Completely shut down,
Overreacting.
Filled with doubt and
Self-loathing.
Inconsistent with no
Motivation.
Often ruins the family
Vacation.
Full blown mania,
Deep dark depression.
Super funny then
Full of aggression.
Takes everything and makes
It personal.
Always combative and
Confrontational.
Have problems paying
Attention.
Shows resistance to
Intervention.
CHILDHOOD TRAUMA SIGNS
Turbo 1904 ?
Paper spiders everywhere
Crawling through pinholes in my brain
Cutting the corners of my mouth
Tartaric taste curls my tongue
Forming words I would never say
An inferno of verbs
Flying through gutted roots
It’s warm butter to a blade
Until the right ones land and spread
That's when they begin to ricochet
You’re only hurting yourself.
That’s what they tell me anyway
I’m a dirt digging plant
Living in the embers of memories
That took decades to slowly fade
Put out in tiny doses
On a slow drip of acid rain
It’s the smell of melting gospel
Revealing monstrosities
Awoken from pits of smothered rage
It’s inhumane
To mistreat animals like this
Yet they do nothing
As innocence is stripped away
Some of us still live in cages
Gnashing teeth
Snapping necks at the end of chains
Some of us still live in the embers
Feeling a burn that never fades
I’m recording scars in tree rings
As bark covers wounds with age
Building cages for the demons
Nesting in my conjured rage
childhood trauma strengthened her resolve
heartfelt survivors instinct
perilously fearless
Those pillars supposed to hold us
fell and crippled us instead
those hands that were made to hold us
strangled our tender necks
the years meant to be our happiest
every day filled with dread
if to be young is very heaven
then truly we were robbed
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