Victim Support!

A short poem of my experiences of historic child abuse and written in my own words of I how I suffered, seeked the appropriate help by Victim Support and became a survivor.

Advertisements

A sharpened dagger stabbed in my heart,

Ripping in it in two, ripping it apart.

Taking advantage of the faith and forgiveness he possesses,

Tears roll down my cheeks as soon as it became excessive.

That first day that we met I cant regain in remberance, however yet,

They’re feelings I’ll never forget.

I knew from the start you where just an old man, however rare,

With those memories I wish were just a simple blur.

Darkness unfolded with one man’s touch,

Caressing my body I hated so much.

I closed my eyes, I closed my mind,

My childhood years left behind.

I’d break each day more and more,

Struggling to keep my emotions in behind my core.

I would find myself hiding behind this smile,
the one that shows my denial.

It seems that the struggle, is always here with me,

I wouldn’t be here now if he’d let me be.

You say it doesn’t matter, it’s all in the past,

Yet you never see my pain, hidden behind my mask.

I lived a life of loneliness and one filled with pain.

living a life empty with nothing to gain,

Surrounded by darkness and overwhelmed with shame,

A life without peace with only one person to blame.

We wear our heart on the sleeves of our shirt,

Aware of the cautions that it will get hurt.

From the depths of despair, when my world fell apart,

I felt all alone and struggled with what was left of my broken heart.

Allowing it from at the age of nine,

now twenty eight the torment remaians at the back of my mind.

I hid behind lies, when things got tough,

I soon forced myself to say enough was enough.

For every time that I broke down,

There was a fake smile to cover the frown.

With no self esteem, confidence and in a broken mess,

I made a decision about my happiness.

I reached for paper and pen and and soon my laptop,

No fears and not restrained, judgment still remains in hope it will stop.

I reported my monster and now write to my best, of my worst,

I opened up from my heart, which was getting close to burst.

If only I could turn the clock back,

I’d find everything that I learnt to lack.

My face woould sit still, where my fake smile appears,

They’d be true and filled with fear.

It’d be as though it was all just a dream,

That came one night so horrriblby to make it seem.

As though this was real, lived and true,

Now there’s only one thing I must do…

To those who tried to fight,

and to those who never slept at night.

To those who never made it through,

and those who were just like me. Be gentle, be you!

I hurt and held back for such a long time,

Struggling through life wearing nothing but a fake smile.

I was helped by the one I love mostest,

That same person who stood by my diagnosis.

I was once told, by a previous counsellor when things got tough,

“No one is perfect, but we are good enough”.

a comment that is burried in my heart,

something that should be learnt from the start.

Then most recently where i’m a patient on a Psyhatric ward,

A statement buried into the flower bed in the centre of the garden that struck a chord.

“It’s not the size of the person in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the person”,

In regards to therapy, words like these make sense of a new learning.

Then an oppertunity arrised, something to seek Justice,

A lady named Anne, brought me a great strength of toughness.

Although a volunteer, a lady with a massive heart and an adviser,

her words; “You are no victim, you are a survivor”

Memories can come and go, mostly buried in mind,

But there is always hope whatever way you look I’d like to remind;

When you think there is nothing more or anyone, there is always an last resort…

Do what I done and contact Victim Support!

-James Keenan