***** possible triggers *****
I thought you would appreciate this thought from a young survivor I work with. He was 13 when he wrote this:
No! I wish I could say it out loud. Scream it. The magic word. "No." But instead I go limp. I disappear. I'm on the other side of that picture. Safe. Because in that picture I'm still a little kid and I'm still smiling. Protected by glass.
"Are you listening? Are you listening bitch?"
"No daddy, I can't hear you."
"Relax and you won't feel a thing."
Bruises where no one will ever find them. My shell breaking like it's made out of plaster. Hollow inside. No thoughts, nothing.
Nobody living can ever stop me
As I go walking my freedom highway.
Nobody living can make me turn back:
This land was made for you and me. (Woody Guthrie)