Affliction (Through the Eyes of a Child)

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Affliction(Through the Eyes of a Child)

I don't want to be here.



I stare at these 4 walls everyday and it stares back

if only they could talk

There's some unspeakable pain

at dwells within me

that most kids wouldn't understand

the screaming, yelling, bashing, tongue lashing

Mommy was extremely too high to function

her brain soaking heavily in self-destruction

not being able to speak or energize

I just pray to my Savior to release me from

this prison I call home

Ricky is traumatized; he looks dead

and all Jo Jo does is pee the bed

this embedded terror in my dome

constantly I bitch and moan

these scriptures of torment etched in stone

Oh my God! Daddy's home.....

What's the worst that can happen now?

His money came up short and he

just finished his 3rd brandy

His anger escalates.



I don't want to be here.



It's been 15 days since the last feeding

the door swings open, time for a beating

for no apparent reason, just a random whippin

like when Mommy caught a beatdown

just for trippin

the whelps on my back speak for itself

my body stinks and my diminishing health

are my permanent emotional tattoos

I need love; not the kind of love that Mommy

calls making money from turning tricks or

the kind of love Daddy wants to give Jo Jo

when he feels the urge.....

it requires wholeness, understanding

and patience withstanding

but innocence and purity all taken

by flesh and blood, relentless drugs

poverty, abuse and slow death

what a fuckin mess



I don't want to be here.



Lord, please take this pain away

my childhood totally washed away

my skies are overshadowed with gray

will I live to see 18 someday?

I remain a vegetable in my own little atmosphere

nothing else left of me but these

tubes to help me breathe

I have a loss of vision, but however, I see

very cleary that my life as we know it is minimal

Daddy is now a criminal, serving a life sentence

[beep.]~~~~~~

I'll see Willie when I get to Heaven

[beep.]~~~~~~

Willie was my little brother, a crack baby

who died at 3 months old, now in safe quarters

[beep.][beep.]~~~~~

I'm next in line

[beep.][beep.]~~~~~

at the frontline

[beep.][beep.]~~~~~

Goodbye, world. It's checkout time

[beep.][beep.][beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.]~~~~~

<^/^---_-_--_-_----^> FLATLINE.  



And I'm free.



written March 2003






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Karyn Indursky's picture

This is a very troubling poem. It's so sad what children live through. They deserve a heck of a lot better and I pray that someday children will be treated as the gold they are.

Stephanie Karpierz's picture

This is deep, emotional yet it speaks the truth for so many children and survivors who are adults now.
The price some unfortunate children pay for "freedom" often leaves the adults speechless and in a neverending nightmare in question of "how could i not know".
Although this piece is heartbreaking it put me on an emotional roller coaster through the mind of that child.
Keep writing & i'll keep reading.

Sincerely,
Stephanie