The Places I Have Been (A Story of Survival)

I have written so many poems

formed all different stories inside of my head

I have been lost

rejected

alone

I have found comfort in all the wrong places

fell in love with the worst people

who possessed the kindest hearts

I have been used

abused

left for dead

I have been abandoned

have ached in places I didn’t know I could

have sobbed for situations I can’t control

I have lost pieces of myself

small segments and large chunks

I am missing half of me

in other people

I have struggled

with myself

with others

Have been taken advantage of

have been ignored

My “no” was useless

I was useless

I have been threatened

kept quiet

The missing half of me

filled with guilt and shame

I lost my voice

My words were meaningless

For years

I couldn’t speak

about rape

about myself

about others

about God

Couldn’t love

myself

others

God

I couldn’t open my eyes

I have been scared

for so long

Terrified

I have broken down

Like a rusty car sputtering to a stop

on the side of the road

Dead

I have been hit

beaten

Called names that I never want to touch my unborn daughter’s ears

I have had addictions

to porn

to drugs

to sex

Nightmares

My family dying

I am the cause

People hurting

I am always the cause

I am plagued by these dreams every night

And every morning

I wake up to a different kind of terror

The memories.

I fear remembering

Her

A slumber party

Barbie overalls on the floor

Staring at a purple alarm clock

2 AM

I wonder what my mom is doing

Is she asleep?

Awake and thinking about me?

I close my eyes to the shame

Let it happen

For months

I let it happen

I let her zip my mouth shut

And I zipped myself shut.

Fast forward 2 years

Him

We are at the park

I vomit down the slide

When he touches me

and I say no

In the woods

Dirt, leaves, sticks

Stabbing me in the back

As he whispers how much he loves me

And I cry

I bleed

I roll onto my side and fight the urge

To kill him

kill myself

I cry for my mother

Tell God I am sorry

When he is finished

I walk home

Streaked with dirt

Hurting in places a 13 year old shouldn’t hurt

Fast forward 2 years

My father is leaving.

He cries when he goes.

It's the first time I've ever watched my father cry.

His clothing is packed.

My mother is sobbing.

We pray he will be back,

He is not.

3 months later

I am packing my clothing.

The same way my father packed his.

I need to get out of this town,

Is what I tell my mother,

Too many memories.

I can feel her heart breaking open again.

I am guilty.

Fast forward 2 months

I am packing yet again.

This time I am leaving my father’s home.

There are tears on his cheeks.

The second and last time in my entire life

that I have or will ever watch this man cry.

They say he is not fit to take care of me.

The cuts and bruises on my arms and legs are proof.

I am sobbing.

He is shaking

telling me to stay calm,

everything will be okay.

But nothing is ever the same.

Fast forward 2 months

I am lying in a hospital bed.

Staring at the ceiling.

There is a tube in my arm.

My family sits around me.

My father is not present.

I am thinking about death,

the sweet release it could bring.

2 weeks later

I am walking out of those hospital doors,

promising myself and my sister that I will not be back.

But I am.

6 months later, I am.

And this time,

When the social worker asks about abuse,

I just stare.

And she stares back.

Blank eyes,

Monotone,

“Any history of abuse?”

And then I am crying,

Sobbing,

Apologizing.

My mother is holding me,

My sister is shaking beside me,

We fall apart together.

Months later,

It is brought up again.

When my father admits that he does not believe me.

I am not ready for this

And the pain comes as if it had never left.

I am back in the hospital

in another bed that is not my own.

I will never be free of this.

I will never be a real person.

My abuse has convinced me,

This is who I am.

My father does not visit.

He does not love me.

Fast forward for the last time,

to present day.

No more rewinding

It is no longer a secret

I have been raped

Molested

Abused

Forgotten

But I refuse to be silenced.

These words are spilling out of me

Piece by piece and day by day

I am collecting parts of myself

Taking them back from those who stole what wasn’t theirs

From those who taught me to think that love means sex and pain.

Some days I bleed

I cry and I am sore

I ache in the places they hurt me

But everyday I am closer to recovering

I am getting better

I have been saved

By a man who is perfect

I am loved

By another who is not

One is my God

The other is an angel sent from him

I worship the first,

I plan to marry the second.

Both have made me whole again.

Thank you.