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If you only knew how I’m hanging by a thread I wrote the following poem while here for weeks in a PTSD Hospital (together) with (other) girls who have anorexia… I'm struggling between life and death and tried expressing myself to JCW as a voice of a sexual abuse surviver. -anonymous Oh G-d where are you Did you forget me here? I’ve cried aloud to […]

If you only knew how I’m hanging by a thread

I wrote the following poem while here for weeks in a PTSD Hospital
(together) with (other) girls who have anorexia… I'm struggling between life and death
and tried expressing myself to JCW as a voice of a sexual abuse
surviver.

-anonymous

Oh G-d where are you
Did you forget me here?
I’ve cried aloud to you 
Did you not see each tear??

I remember the day my life changed
The moment I felt so estranged
Suddenly I was uncovered and revealed
I called for help, but there was no shield

I wanted to run, but he didn’t let me leave
I was so young, I could hardly conceive 
He was my father, I could hardly believe
My Mama was naïve and my daddy was a thieve

He stole away eighteen years of my life
Surrounded me with his constant strife
His hit and beat me, but I stayed strong 
He shouted, when I wasn’t even wrong

But the day he made me touch him
Unrevealed, my body turned limb
I was once healthy and beautiful 
I stopped eating and became invisible

Today I told my first lie
From my hurt, I want to die 
No one saw through my pain
As I played the food game

The lights have gone out all around me 
I’m surrounded by darkness as I fall to my knee
My body is wasting away, I no longer feel brave
I feel like I’m slipping into my ice-cold grave 

I got so sick I collapsed to the floor
Too weak, I couldn't make it to the door 
I feel dead inside it makes me want to hide
About the meals I ate, I continuously lied 

If you only knew how I’m hanging by a thread
If you only knew just how much my heart bled
If you knew how I’m struggling
I can’t breathe, I’m suffocating

Though I won’t crawl today,
I know JCW will help me someday
I know, there’ll be beauty from pain
I cling to the day you go on the wall of shame
Posted in media, survivors-letters.

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