Sometimes I wake up in the morning and am hit with flashbacks.
I wake up to a new day and find myself looking through the eyes of a child.
At times, I feel the striking blows of being thrown up against the wall, forcibly and painfully abused.
Other times, I feel their fingers running over me, their breath on me, their mouths.
I try to shut my eyes and make it go away. I whisper a cry for help to myself, "Go away". But they linger.
Sometimes I open my eyes and am looking into theirs. I see no remorse. They know what they're doing.
Sometimes I don't see them at all, but feel them. I feel my body being ravaged. Hoping it'll all be over soon.
It's especially those times when they've had their way with me and then discard me, like trash.
It's those times after their fun, their "fix", that they toss me aside and don't want me no more.
It's as if I'm a physical reminder of their selfish lustful desires and they can't stand the sight of me.
By doing this, they destroy my spirit, my value.
"Wounds heal and bruises fade! but with violence against the spirit! the pain is deep and long-lasting."
- T.D. Jakes
Each one, I can't do anything. I can't do anything to change it. Not at all. Not even a little bit.
What would I change? I was just a child.
What could I do? I didn't even know what it was called.
Would I really change anything? Not while I'm in it. By then, I had already given up.
I did the best that I could in the moment. I did my best given the circumstances.
Does it really get easier?....I have to believe that. I have to believe that it does. It does get better.
I guess like I've been hearing, and experienced some....."it gets worse before it gets better".....ok.