Unlovable I’m alone and I’m afraid. Everyone’s gone. I wished they’d stayed I’m confused. Can’t find my way. I slowly muddle through each day No one sees me. No one hears. No one knows about my fears I’m not pretty. I’m not smart. I’m not worthy. They have no heart I’m so small and I’m not […]

Unlovable

I’m alone and I’m afraid. Everyone’s gone. I wished they’d stayed

I’m confused. Can’t find my way. I slowly muddle through each day

No one sees me. No one hears. No one knows about my fears

I’m not pretty. I’m not smart. I’m not worthy. They have no heart

I’m so small and I’m not strong. Everything I do is somehow wrong

They don’t explain. They change the rules. I’m not equipped. I don’t have tools

I live in shadows. I hide my face. I hug my knees. I’m not worth the space.

I make mistakes. I have no brain. I have no use. I accept the pain.

They can not teach me. I’ll never learn. Their words, their anger, scar and burn

There is nothing in me to be redeemed. I am not the child of which they dreamed.

No games get played. No stories told. No lap to sit on. No hand to hold.

No gentle words. No soothing tone. No warmth or kindness in this home

No comfort comes when I’m scared at night. I must stay quiet. I may not fight.

All of the demons that live in my head take on the image of that man on my bed

They formed my thoughts. They played with my mind. They hid me away and left me behind.

No qualities in me could they find to love. I was the punishment from the One above.

They laughed at me. They called me names. I was good for nothing and so ashamed.

They said I was useless. They destroyed any hope. I was just a child. I couldn’t cope

I accepted their truth, I became their words. All that I wasn’t, was all that I heard

Unlovable, untouchable, disgusting and bad. Gross and dirty, stupid- so sad

That’s what I lived with. It was all that I knew. I had to believe that all of it was true

How to refute it? How can I change? Remove those thoughts and rearrange?

Deep down inside me is there something that’s good? I never believed that. Maybe I should

Btzelem Elokim, in His image we’re made. There’s purity inside us. I don’t think it can fade

I want to believe it. I promise I try. But buried deep down is that question of why.

I must have a purpose. Of that I’m so sure. I so want to face it. My hands on the door

I’ve lived in this prison. It’s time to break free, to step out, stop the hiding. To reveal the real me

Posted in media, news-articles, op-eds, survivors-letters.


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