CAUTION:

COULD BE A TRIGGER TO SOME

This is a graphic poem of my personal story of childhood incest:

The Story of Annette

The infant cries

What does it take

To rape a child

At six months old?

Some people say

The abuse is not possible

The Father knows!-he did it!

The Doctor knows-he examined her!

The Grandparents know-they raised her!

But they kept the secret from her

“It will never effect her

Unless she is told.

Don’t write it down anywhere”

That was the thought in that day…

She was finally told

The Secret-The Truth

After the State committed her.

She is part of ME

WE are US…

Each time a baby cries

We relive the abuse.

The infant girl huddles in the corner

Trying to hide from HIM

(He is not really there)

She feels HIM THERE

They call US crazy!

They say WE are pretending

We believe that we are little

We were, 35-years ago.

Our mind fragmented as we grew:

Different parts emerged

Each with their own story

Each with their own trauma

Each stuck in their own place.

Each from their own time…

A grown woman,

Now I am.

The gasps for air

Choking, Gagging-

Something gross in the mouth

She can’t get it out:

She thinks she is going to die

She cannot breath!

Something heavy lies on her body,

Crushing her…

Too painful to acknowledge

Too dreadful to bear:

Tears flow

Blackness

Touch is BAD!

The child is destroyed!

All the parts want to tell you.

Just who they are:

What has happened to them.

Do you have the courage to listen?

Will you blame them?

Are you open minded enough?

Is it safe to tell?

Will you hurt us too?

We are still fighting to survive,

Eager to live,

Wanting someone to listen:

Someone to care.

We are Multiple.

*Annette’s Story was first published in MINED: A literary and art Journal of, by and for persons who have experienced mental illness/emotional disturbances. Copyright @2000