abuse

some people have been abused,
and I'm always amazed at those
who haven't when they say
              that we should stop living
in the past.
sometimes the past is all you have.
it has formed every fiber of your
being. when your childhood is
composed of getting punched
in the face, being screamed at
that you're a piece of shit,
and trained in the art of
self destruction,
it becomes almost
impossible to pull yourself up
by the bootstraps and get on
with the part of living
that reflects the best parts
of who you really are.
it's not about living in the past,
it's about the reoccurring
nightmare that was your childhood.
it's about dealing with trauma
and learning how best
not to lose your shit.
no matter how hard you pretend
to be over it, it never seems
to be far enough under you.
the memories rape your mind
and the fear comes ripping in
and your left as afraid as you were
all those years ago.
no matter how many bridges you
cross, or how many you burn to ashes,
you still remember the location
of every single one.
the best remedy seems to be
making every moment count, learning
how not to treat people the way
your were treated, and getting away
from those who did you harm.
but you always hope to one day
awaken without the nightmares
tainting the shadows
of your dreams.
you hope that someday
the memories will subside.
you hope to get to live the way
living
           was intended.