Each morn before the sun ascending as a lamp to light our way, I think of you, and the long overdue welcome of your visit, your pearly smile, twinkling eyes, loving laughter, and the light goes out, as reality takes up residence in my very soul, my aching soul – my severed soul!
Guilt clings as a woven web; sometimes survival does that when all that remains is questions – unanswered questions – the grave has no voice, no tales to tell, no evidence to reveal…
Mother said, “Someone broke her spirit”… As I watched her slump to the floor, seen first hand the anguish of a mother whose first born would never rise again, and a father trying desperately to conjure youth, his physical strength to avenge the injustice befallen his daughter, body shaking with anger, tears damned behind blue eyes on the verge of a deluge.
In your need to love and be loved, you were blinded, Time opened your eyes little by little, by then it was too late as mental, emotional and physical abuse took its toll behind closed doors, deceitful, cunning, manipulating doors, doors and the people behind them that “broke your spirit, your beautiful spirit”.
Abuse robbed us, all of us, left to forever mourn your silence.
***if you suspect someone is being abused, wether it be physically, mentally or emotionally, DO NOT HESITATE – IT COULD BE TO LATE… Intervene with all your might! The abused seldom share their horrific lives, stories as they are in fear.