abused children find love

”An abused child can grow up to be anything, whether you believe this or not is irrelevant. As an abused child, maybe you think that there is nothing out there for you or feel as though you’re entitled to things when you don’t do anything for yourself other than get high and doped. Maybe you’re unhappy? Did you try fixing things for yourself? Do you get hit, constantly for anything, everything and yet nothing, the way I do...?” Her speech tumbles onto nothingness, no one cares and no one hears. She looks up and isn’t even the slightest bit surprised.

She sits down, sleepy claps sound yet she knows if asked, no one would know what she had said, what her topic had been about, that she hadn’t finished. At lunch she sits with her friends, they want her to be with someone new, to stop wallowing in the past, her past, what will be her future and is her present.

Can you hear me when I’m screaming? Can you feel me when I’m bleeding? These hurts they cut deep, these thoughts make me bleed, these screams silent prayer, lonely, all alone with nobody to hear.

A few small words from a friend give her a little hope. But with hope comes pain, with pain comes more pain. A few stolen kisses in the middle of class and holding hands on walks to the next one. Lonely? I guess a little less, but even she couldn’t stay wholly happy even with new love, love that treated her well, still tears, still pain. Only lonely.

He holds her closely when they hit her; he kisses her bruises and stops her from creating new scars. Her words no longer falling upon deaf ears, but rather ears that listen and care.