...Backhanded recollections

By SolApathy

Where is home when the evil lives in your bones
Thought my life would be light
Much too young I found
Must fight to survive
Looking back, I find it hard to remember why I strived
Reminded day in and out the cost of survival
My life a rival to my mom’s fun
I broke her smile and turned her into a mean one
Never on purpose, my very surface
Angered her beyond reason
My body open season
Home was escape from the house
Anywhere I could dream of the life I didn’t know
Homes- forts in the snow
Tree house memories
My friends angry they got grounded from Nintendo
If ever they lived, terrified
Being smacked with a fly swatter- asking for a glass of water
Backhanded recollections
Broken skin a terse reflection of the days it rained
Couldn’t get out and escape her pain
My home was the sidewalk stroll
Missing the bus to the house
I smiled inwardly, it was one of my secret ways, out
Trapped at night in a house- it wasn’t home
Torture chamber with the sounds of footsteps outside my door
Concentrating so hard to not be seen when she opened the

...Door...

Now you see, an introspection into…Me
My home was never a safe space, just a hope of a brief escape
I burden you with the belief
…It could have been so much worse for you
I escaped in the end; my hand extended
…A lesson anyone can make it …Through
...Even...You

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Published on Tuesday, April 11, 2017. Filed under: "Poetry"

Author's Note:

Where My Beautiful Heart Is -Contest entry

Comments on "...Backhanded recollections"

A former member wrote: I'm almost in tears because I can't declare everyone who entered my contest a winner. This poem is very deep and painful, and I'm so sorry for the horror that you suffered. I will keep your beautiful heart close to mine along with Willow's and my other dear hearts. Great job, dearest. Rebs:).
On Tuesday, April 11, 2017, 10 Forty Three (543) wrote:

Wow... that was deep. I could instantly tell this poem is very personal to you. Thank you for sharing. - 10:43