When I was a child I wasn’t aware I was being abused. It’s just how it was. I knew it hurt. I knew I hated it. I knew it made me angry. I knew how it made me FEEL, but I didn’t know it was wrong. I thought it was my fault. I thought I was a bad child.
Yet, I was a beautiful child with talent and gifts. And the ultimate irony of it, for me, is that through all of the blaming me for my sins, my shortcomings and my exuberance, still the raw DNA of creativity wasn’t altered.
There seems to be a vast difference between emotion towards being hurt and the understanding that you ARE being harmed. I ached deep inside because of the abuse I was taking, yet had no clue it was lawfully wrong.
Who educates the child on what their parent is or isn’t allowed to do to them? Who cares about that communication? Sex education says “don’t have sex” or “wear condoms” depending on whether it’s religion based or not.
So, who is teaching the child about the definitions of abuse, so they know when touch is wrong; when speech is wrong; to be wise and advised. Who is teaching abuse education?
Tell Your Whispers
The voices and faces of the children that are not seen shout the loudest
Their hearts have learned to hide in shadows and cover bruises & scars
They fear to dream and bright futures do not convey in their dwellings
Personal thoughts aren’t allowed, simple pleasures are denied
Special secrets hold them tight, hidden darkness fills the night
Blend in, don’t stand out , merge within the walls
Born to serve, learn to exist, fight your demons, bite your lip
Tell your whispers, sing your songs
Truth & Freedom your heart belongs
TJ
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Great post, Vennie, good question..xx CC
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