You think I’m pretty, innocent, and sweet
Yet innocence and sweet is not what I’ve seen
You think that I’m beautiful, a true blue
If only you could see I’m battered and bruised
Why did you not believe when I told you the truth?
It was only the imagination of a child you mused
I’ve told you the truth since day one you see
It was you world that did not believe
You told me there was no monster under my bed
I said, “No Mommy, its laying next you neither sleeping or dead
Sleeping with one eye open, always ready to run
Fearful that eventually, he will find that gun
Waiting until dark to find my way home
Finding reasons to wander and roam
Counting down the days till this hell I can leave
This dismal abyss of lie and deceit
You think that I’m fearless and strong
If only you knew how badly you were wrong
I have fallen too many times to count
The blows I have taken have no amount
Why did you not believe me when I said I was afraid?
To live in this hellish home he had made
Under this perfect skin, the truth still lies
Waiting for someone to listen and not let it die
My friend, the bruises are real and the scars are deep
These are memories I will forever keep
Let this teach you to always listen when children speak
The ghouls, goblins, and monsters are sometimes real
We may be young but we know what we feel
No matter what age you are, pain is a friend
That when no one listens to with death walks hand in hand.
*This poem was written for a dear friend who suffered from child abuse. If you are or know somebody who is a victim of child abuse, please reach out to the National Child Abuse Hotline at 1-800-422-4453.
Caitlin is a photographer, educator, and communication professional. She enjoys writing about rhetoric, history, and philosophy, placing particular significance on human-beings as story-telling animals. She has been published in numerous outlets, both local and national, as well as in a number of academic journals.
She currently resides in Raleigh, NC with her dog Marvel.