I know you’re a child just trying to stay, Where violence and eggshells wait every day. They told you it’s normal, so how could you know, The lies that they fed you to keep you down low?
No power to fight from the day you were born, When pain is your life, then the pain is your norm. The love you deserved was just missing back then, While adults were lying again and again.
A house full of chaos, a minder you feared, No safety around you, no kindness appeared. You hid in your bedroom, you prayed in the car, Alone with the terror that left you a scar.
To bring any order when everything swirled, You counted ten times to hold onto the world. It brought you a hope where there used to be none, You smiled when it worked, when it failed, added one.
Through every car ride where the threat was in air, You spoke magic words and you offered your prayer. One day it was over, but altered the brain, Rewired forever to carry the strain.
The counting, the prayers, and the rules in your head, Were holding the line through the darkness and dread. You whispered the words, and you carried us through, The adult I am is a gift built by you.
I write unfiltered, raw and brutally honest poetry and prose on trauma, survival and living with BPD and OCD, which I’ve had since childhood.
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