There are parts of me so dark even
I don’t wish to dwell there too long,
pieces of my life no-one will ever
hear about unless you happen to have been there,
things I cannot acknowledge I was
a part of, even instrumental in creating,
and there they remain, forevermore
carved into my psyche, onto my bones.
What madness made them mine,
what sanity escaped me,
what reasoning allowed them in…
...…that’s the side of me that is disturbed
and detached,
forms impulses that scare me, reactions
too foreign to be my own.
This fearful darkness is a part of
me I guard,
prevent it from being seen, from
gaining a foothold in my reason,
and I’d rather bear the scars as it
claws at me, fully knowing I am harming myself,
for as much as they hurt me, they can
hurt you too.
Let them out , the freedom is so releasing. I was molested for years then convinced that it was my doing. When I shared this deep secret with another I was was free. Free to deal with it finally. I could see it what it was for real with a new set of eyes. Does it still effect me? Yes but I am so aware how it does and it quit hurting me. Peace ,Dave
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