Cycles of abuse must be broken, if not, refined & disguised until hardly detectable. |
Fleeing in fear from screaming and yelling with terror on your face. Quickly, under the bed! How did I get to this place? Mommy loves you. Black and blue crayons. A sad heart and confused mind attaches razors to words that otherwise are kind. She loves you not. Scarlet red kiss upon the cheeks. Why can't you be a good little girl and do as I tell you to! Come from under there, its ok. Sit with me while tears I wipe from your face. Tissue is tender, but falls apart easily. Don't let them hurt me! I promise, the monster is gone. How did I get you to this place? Eyes of stone, dulled by times tic toc, tic toc. I look through your pain. I don't know how to comfort you or your peace help you to regain. The monster is resting, hiding in the music box. In my frustration, I only wished to do you harm; "No matter where you go there will be people who hate you! Get from under that bed! So there's no cause for your alarm." Smile, don't cry in the cookies. Your concern is not needed and she's just fine. Mommy will kiss it to make it all better. How do I get out of this place? Not quite what I had in mind. We should be going now. |