“When you aren’t loved, you aren’t real. Life is cold, like the stone against my palm.”
– Richelle E. Goodrich, Dandelions: The Disappearance of Annabelle Fancher
– Richelle E. Goodrich, Dandelions: The Disappearance of Annabelle Fancher
“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
― Judith Lewis Herman, Trauma and Recovery
I hear him coming, old truck grumbling
Stumbling up the stairs.
I hear him cussing, broken glassesthrowing
Threatening me to tears.
I hear his belt undoing, drunken fury lashing,
Bringing my young fears
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
Related Post: Slamming Doors
Also published in Broowaha Magazine
02282012