Testipoem

Can you imagine-A happy childhood, filled with frequent travel, getting most if not everything you wanted? Then while washing dishes at the age of eleven, you feel the sudden urge to plunge a knife in your chest and don’t even know why. Well, I don’t have to imagine. Because you see that girl was I. She’s talented and smart excelling in school, but when her room door closes, she does things as a fool. Constantly grabbing that razon, tracing her veins and never telling a soul cause she feels so ashamed. Several years go by with four beautiful kids, she takes a bottle of pills cause she no longer wants to live. This has nothing to do with emotional suppression. The doctors they say it’s scientific just postpartum depression. More years go by and she’s STILL feeling pain, so she prescribes her own relief and introduces her nose to cocaine. She anticipated obsessively when he said, “I’ll take care of you”. HEY, he was the SAME age as her father, so she believed this to be true. He cursed her and beat her even while pregnant with his kids. Hey, what’s this we have here? Is that a lock on the fridge? So, you’ll gladly feed her drugs, but you won’t feed her food? She’s locked in the house for hours with no sign of you. When you finally come home, you’re belligerent and rude. You’re pushing and shoving, swinging knives at her head, strangling her with your belt. How she wishes she were dead. You pull out your pistol and tell her to leave NO, you’re not taking the kids they’re staying with me. Her teenage son slept in her car, while she sat back distressed, crying. How did it get this far? She has what it takes and longs to be a good mother all she needed in her life was God and structure. It’s sad an unfortunate that this poem is true, but I wanted to share my story hoping it may save you.