“Nurtured by sorrows in childhood”
…what the hell does that even mean?
I thought it, I wrote it.
I lived it, I remember it…
A child in darkness puts hell in ovation…
but where was my heaven?
I swear I was touched once then…
by an angel, I think.
I’m not sure, for its face was blackened
in the dimmed basement.
Cold, wet cement walls echoed whining.
Please… please why can’t it be a dream?
My angel, my protector and my hero
you should have been.
Your touch felt kind, caring and trustworthy…
but that face!
Oh, that face of yours chained me to the darkened corner
squeezing the childhood out of my broken body!
I grew up too fast in childhood.
I’d love to have it all back now.
One steals… what another’s lost;
your thieving smothered the light in my soul.
Nearly every day, I cross my arms over my chest
in the comforting hold of the only one who knows, who understands.
I hug me…
the bad won’t drain from this fragile being.
It has cemented itself to every corner of my body and mind.
I will never be free again.
Now and again, I think of that basement,
only to relive the horror.
Daniel, your write is healing. For many. For me. I hope it’s healing for you.
Other heals me temporarily like a drug. But then the signs and symptoms of depression come back and I have e to write and publish more.
I agree with Damian. I can be lifelong. But what you do is amazing.
Holding you in thought, Daniel.
It’s a lifelong battle, Daniel. Powerfully penned my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian