“Many abused children cling to the hope that growing up will bring escape and freedom…She is still a prisoner of her childhood; attempting to create a new life, she re-encounters the trauma.”
― Judith Lewis Herman, Trauma and Recovery
I hear him coming, old truck grumbling
Stumbling up the stairs.
Threatening me to tears.
I hear his belt undoing, drunken fury lashing,
I hear the slaps landing, bruises are coming
Staining my skin with smears
I hear the bath filling, his sorrow is falling
Draining his guilty water clears
I hear the door slamming, darkness is calling
Suffering my torment through the years