Shattered Glass Life After Abuse

Motherhood is a blessing - a gift from God, but it is also a very difficult job - particularly for woman who are adult survivors of child abuse. Great thoughts don't always become great reality. Often what I see in my head as being something sweet, meaningful and appropriate crumbs into a struggle, hurt feelings, offenses and never-gonna-happens. I can not tell you how many times this scenario has repeated that past 20 years. It still never gets easy to be part of this two-step dance that is more like a tug-of-wills. A heart slashing - never what it was intended to be - occurs. This poem was birthed out of such a time as this. Phone is ringing in my ears, My heart pounds, message clear. Why are people not listening, To the words - what they mean. I try talking to my child, It'll be good, I decide. But it blows up in my face Homemade cocktail Burns the place. I only longed to talk it out, Think about, what was said, I listened to the voice I heard Sympa...

I wrote this to be lyrics to a song... but I am not a musician. I don't write tunes, musics, etc. If someone can write a song for these words I would be so grateful. It is about a daughter abused by a father losing her mother because the mother chose to be with the father and give up her relationship with her daughter, but I could also see it from the eyes of a child of divorce going through a similar situation. I'm all grown up Still I bleed the wounds of a little child. I walk so brave, Trapped in the realities of could've beens. You choose him, Don't ever try to reach me again. Mom spoke to me, I offered the love of her little child. But she drift away, Fear called her back into his cave. You choose him, Don't ever try to reach me again. I close my eyes Trying to erase all that was done. I can not sleep, Torturous dreams sweep through my mind. You choose him, Don't ever try to reach me again. The bridge is gone, There is no ...

I hurts so much. When I try, when I reach out, when I am needing help, when I try to talk, when I ask, Why Do You Push Me, and laugh? It is not funny to me. It hurts. I know I am not always stable, not always right in the head. It is not by choice. You say I don't handle stress, but you don't do anything to alleviate my stress. You act like you have the answers, like you understand what is happening, like you have adjusted, like you are normal, like you care. You even say at times, "I love you." And that is nice to hear, because I believe. But when I call you, when I talk to you, when I am seeking help or need a change or to get on track or to move one step away from the edge or to make progress or to make life better... You PUSH me.. . you rattle on with jokes and laughter, it's a game, you twist my words and laugh. You make up riddles, jokes and play on words. You wont get serious; you don't take me seriously. Around, and around, and around ...