The Trafficked

Emotions run high; 

I feel myself floating on the buoyancy of their surface 

And still spilling over. 

I spent a lifetime trying to heal; 

Waking in shrilling pain 

Body too shattered to be understood. 

Heart so wretchedly let down 

By God and family. 

By lovers, and people who didn't understand the meaning of friendship or love 

In this world, mine. 

Here, where they stood, was a shallow grave of forlorns and no hugs. 

A world where I was left alone to writhe in my own pain, misunderstood and abandoned, 

No more than some filthy stray, boxed up and left curbside. 

This child would never know her worth 

Unless she fought those that challenged it. 

The pain developed into a starving hunger, biting back, baring teeth, eyes scared to death and body traumatized by abuse mascarading as love, 

With beatings consistent, and "I love you's", the gaslight of my life lamps. 

It was easier to talk about me, than to love me I suppose; easier to blame my expressions instead of wonder about them and dig. 

Easier to abandon the broken, rather than to see that is what she had always received in her life- 

A walking away. 

But I was....a child. Not a dog. And no one, came to save me. 

They decried my mother's "parenting", felt bad for me and took me under wings...

But she too, drove them away. 

Before I knew it, all I was loving were reflections of her...

Shattering my bits only more and more, with each love disintegrating with the rot that took root. 

I became scattered, 

Parentless, 

Lost in this world that only proved to use me up with no solace to give back. 

The pain grew through me, lightning in my nerves, wretched pain for days and days 

and calls for the reprieve of death, 

The only way I saw this pain might end. 

"Relieve me, God."

But there has been none. 

A whole life of punishment has left me asking, 

"What had I done?"

There is no medicine for this curse cast upon me, but a child since when. 

Instead it is pain, body down, in bedside dreams, lost with any hope left. 

For abuse is the love I know in this life. 

It is how I ought to be loved. 

Broken body with face-down dreams, 

And only narcissists scooping me up....

Because I am the bait to their needs. 

I hope loving him...

Will be different... 

But it goes up and down, and around and around, and I am still just as lost as ever, 

Faith, my only weapon now. 

Love, the bedrock of us....

But I have only ever known Love

  To fall short. 

Disappointment rages in my heart. 

Weilding waves I can not control, 

Conquering me many more days than I even have to give in my soul.  

I have asked to return to God...

And yet He, even He, 

Will not have me. 

I assume it means I am not done here- 

  Dying my death everyday. 

And it does, truly leave me wondering, 

If there is even a God at play, in any of this...

Because I really can not imagine, letting my children suffer so, millions and millions of times over, as has been their condemnation. 

I often wonder, "where is God?" If he is real so! 

And I hate this world. I hate it. 

I would not wish it on any soul...

  

But perhaps that is just the world God gave me; 

Not worthy of love. Not worthy of reprieve, 

But rather living a crusifiction  every day of my life. 

That is my fate it would seem. My destiny in His...

Even if I might never, 

Know why.