Poetic Therapy

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I’m experiencing flashbacks of
my father slapping my face.
My mother hitting the back of my head
with the buckle of my belt.

I’m falling – tears are falling.
Why hasn’t anyone come to help me?

My screams echo through the marrow of the dead.
Left alone to console my woes,
I tenderly mend the wounds on my head.

Father forgive me.
Mother I’m sorry.

The thoughts of a young seven year old.

I know now why I can never grow old.
I’m stuck,
I’m in a world of violence
and I only know how to play
my way out of the pain.

I’m a Power Ranger today – mighty morphing

because my daddy hurt me.
I have no idea why he hurt me.

I’m sorry daddy.
Mommy forgive me.

Accused of things I cannot conceive.

Molested by the idea,
tortured by the lies,
I can still feel the tears build up in my eyes.

Cognitive Behaviour Therapy

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