Thoughts Of A Survivor

A simple touch, I would feel hurt,

Yet it makes me wonder, does she worry?

Does she feels hurt? Does she understand?

It’s all a wonder to me.

She can’t stroke her hands in my hair,

without me sitting up and looking at her in fear,

For what is supposed to be a mother’s welcome touch

Is now as unwelcome as his.

Is this my subconscious?

Knowing that she’s in bond with him,

By blood, Yet,

so am I,

But then again,

I am barely able to live with myself.

The betrayal in her eyes,

Is something that keeps me up at night,

For every time she caresses me In my slumber,

I am stirred awake In discomfort.

And it is not only her,

But anyone else really

And the shock and fear

I saw in my sister’s eyes that day, hurt me,

As compared to the contrary,

Of what one might have thought.

For this simple touch my body,

in slumber Refuses to accept,

Yet with my eyes open, If I don’t receive it,

The feeling of neglect, washes over me.

He is away, far away I tell myself

Coaxing myself to close my eyes,

Alas,

The nightmares find me,

Which remind me,

Of my inescapable future,

In which he will too.

He will and she will.

And then I’ll be silent.

Once more.