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A poem about trauma

By Elizabeth Biz DiedrickPublished 5 years ago 2 min read

I see a little girl,

chubby with little blonde curls

she's running her fingers over the purple stains on her skin,

pressing to feel the pain only they remember.

Maybe it's because she needs to feel.

Maybe it's because she doesn't want to forget.

The stains are just so beautiful and real

on her fragile and pale canvas

They fascinate her to no end because she feels so worthless

thinking maybe somehow she deserved this

the wine her own mother spilled on her skin

simply for taking a snack without permission.

And now I see the girl again

but she's a little older

She's curled up on her bed

and the tears are overflowing

as she sings her screaming song into the night

it falls on broken eardrums that don't realize her plight

Her body holds the stains of the past

And she tells herself her love for her mother mustn't last

But She Can't Help It.

Then she somehow drifts asleep,

waiting for the hope that morning brings.

I see myself absorbing stains inside and out

as she batters me not just with her hands but with her words as well

Causing all my self doubt

and I just want to scream

"How could you do this to Me?!"

Your own daughter, your flesh and blood

You're supposed to be the one I can turn to when everything is wrong!

You're supposed to show me unconditional love!

Not transfer your stains

to my heart

causing us both to fall apart

How can you walk around pretending everything is ok

Lying to your friends

then spilling onto me

Using all the rage and the pain you've gone through

You say you hit me for my own good

but it's really for you!

You want to take the easy way out

So instead of owning up to what you do

you just shout

every time I try to fix what's between us

You push me away

and break more of my trust

I guess by now I realize you won't change

You'll go through life denying that you caused me so much pain

Because if you owned up to what you did, you would break

So instead you walk around plastic and fake

So now I see a little girl covered in stains

becoming myself and escaping your pain

Leaving you far behind to live out your fantasy

because leaving you is the first step

to washing off the stains you've given me.

slam poetry

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