Raw

Now living life like a corpse, no trust in any one, no faith in goodness, no belief left in happiness and that’s not the depression talking.

Imagine a childhood surrounded in death, nothing else surrounds you.

Then those that took you in were fake. They were lies.

Those people that put a roof over your head, that put the clothes on your back well they kept tabs on everything, on every little penny they spent on you they wanted back. Those people who claimed to have your best at heart they beat you till you bled, till your lips cracked open and bloated, till your eyes turned black and you had to cover your face with your hair. Any utterance of from you would be met with criticism and then you would learn not to speak.

There were no angels looking out for you, those that died were not protecting you from up above and no prince charming came, there was no light at the end of the tunnel, no saving grace.

Any good you did was called evil, any chore was replied with you being called lazy. Get down on the ground and wipe the floor clean with a bucket and sponge. Cinderella but no prince charming.

Your hunger secondary, your tears primary. Sleepless nights filled with fear but then what would it matter, better to die free then live in cowardice.

Then you learnt to “keep the peace”, say nothing and suffer in silence. Trapped in your own skin, your soul suffocates. Days go by and you learn to pick up a blade but not to those who are slowly killing you but to your own awaiting flesh.

Counting the days to when you would one day be killed or die.

Time going by and the realisation that no one, no one would ever come to save you. No one had the courage and no one could care less.

So through the beats and through the fear you learnt to take it, take all forms of abuse, endure it because nothing can be done without enduring pain. Others had sleep over’s, friends to go shopping with, went to a park but you learnt to stand up through the beats, you learnt to speak against the lies, you learnt to realise the fake, realise what’s real.

But they still entered your head, infiltrated your mind, your thoughts, made you feel worthless, made that small child feel obligated to do anything and everything and so we did. It was never enough.

And they kept using you till one day they realised how much you had grown, till slowly they realised just how much strength you had in you and what once they made cower with fear, what they made crawl into a tiny little corner they now feared.

Did they not realise that the small child they beat would one day grow up? That it would be stronger? Wiser?

Living corpse, inside they destroyed your soul. Shattered belief in anything good.