Confessions of a Hurting Child

I’m going to talk today.
It’s going be a great day.
From my parted lips, words will escape.

I’m going to talk today
Because the talk inside my mouth pleads to breathe.
So listen, listen to me. The words will soon come.

My lips part…words roll forward towards my lips…
Soon, so soon you will know the truth!
The words stop.
They slowly roll backward,
Roll around on my tongue,
Cling to the roof of my mouth,
And hide on the flesh of my cheeks.

My lips part once more…listen.
They will soon escape!
My teeth clench down just as the first word is about to tumble out.
Instead of words, fear dribbles down my chin…
My jaw is taut and the words begin to suffocate under the weight…the pressure.
Squeezing, biting down hard, my face reacts.
Lips parted to speak, turn against me.
My smile fades…upside down.

I’m going to speak today.
Don’t leave! Don’t let my clenched face, my rolling words, my dribbling fear escape your attention!
My words are here…wait, please
Because I am going to speak today,
And today you will know the truth.

Lips part.
Words roll.
Jaw clenches. I suffocate…
I’m going to speak…someday.
It’ll be a great day.

A note on why I wrote this: How many times has abuse continued because a child cannot speak of their private torment? All the time. It’s happening right now. The abuser continues in his/her private life of deception and manipulation, and the child continues living in his/her private hell. This poetic piece is my cry for the abused child: that we may never give up listening, even if it is a silent confession we are listening to.

Two great books with rich descriptions of the cries of children are Bitter Chocolate by Virani (about the situation in India) and Amazing Grace by Kozol (about urban America).