I Wrote My Letter To The Grunge

writing-the-letter

Wandering through the cemetery

I sat upon your gravestone

No offense I meant

But drawn here to write I felt.

I have a letter that I must write

Who better to help me face my past

Than with someone

Who has lived it.

Too many times

I wisht I was here

Lying cold

Beneath the ground

Wondering how long

This life would go on

And the abuses

By others’ hands

I’ve lost count

The times

My body was

Invaded

By those from all walks of life.

The Barristers

The Judges

The Councillors

The Constabulary

The Priests

My Schoolmates

The Neighbors

My own father

Innumerable times

I wept in pain inside

But kept a stoic face

They took my body

They broke me

Into numbness

Until I abused myself

Just to feel.

I prayed during those years

Those 13 long years

To be taken from this Earth

And be allowed to

Never again feel anything

For Anyone!

I hated my father

Whom I call “The Grunge”

For the torment

For the laughter he spewed at my hurt

For the people he persuaded to

Pay a fee for an hour with me

To do as they pleased.

I hated my mother

Who did nothing to protect

Except take another

Slug from her endless

Supply of gin.

My hatred for you burns

And to know

You’re in hell

Is my only consolation.

Good riddance I say

To vermin

And pure evil

As you both have been.

You destroyed my self esteem

You took from me the ability

To ever have a child to love

And you didn’t even care!

I’m grown now

And I’m learning

To move on

To live a life different from yours.

Someday, perhaps,

I will find out what it is to be loved

By someone who will accept

The damaged soul!

But today

I breathe

For the first time

Knowing that from you

I am FREE!

 

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