Spotting Glimpses of Color (standard:poetry, 391 words)
Author: Lori	Added: Feb 08 2012	Views/Reads: 2240/1496	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is the third poem in my Child Abuse series. Sometimes it's not about reliving the attack. It's about facing the mirror. Deciding what's a mirage and what's real.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


in my arms, chest, between my legs, 

and tears falling like rain. 

~~ 

Maybe I'm lucky I don't recall 

every jab, strike, or invasion. 

Even at such a young age 

my mind kept me out of the equation. 

~~ 

I can't claim to being perfect. 

My past leaves that idea rejected. 

But I know it happened. 

On my soul it was infected. 

~~ 

I'm damaged goods. 

I'm tarnished by guilt and shame. 

I have a black spot deep inside. 

It'll forever carry his name. 

~~ 

The monster lives in my nightmares. 

The lost little girl can never be saved. 

All because no one paid attention. 

They all just smiled and waved. 

~~ 

But the child grew up 

into a woman some would call amazing. 

She's loved by one above all else. 

And by someone who thinks she's worth saving. 

~~ 

No matter how much you try to deny 

you can't undo the awful past. 

You also can't forget it's formed 

the mold in which you've been cast. 

~~ 

I've tried laying my demons to rest. 

I can now look back and smile. 

I look for the beauty in childhood. 

Attempt to ignore the vile. 

~~ 

So, as I sit here 

staring into the mirror, 

smoking cigarette after cigarette, 

and see the love for my life getting nearer and nearer. 


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