Poetry isn’t just an expression for love, sensuality and passion. Poetry can also express the hidden pain and trauma hidden; that is what I call Raw Poetry. Such type of poetry isn’t always easy to read as it forces us to confront the ugliness that exists around us; most would rather not look at the monster straight up, but for those who have felt pain and experienced horror, this type of poetry is a form of release which is very much needed to be able to heal those parts which may still “bleed” every once in a while.
Rough copy…still trying to decide on the title, if you have any suggestions please let me know.
I wish I could disappear I wish I could erase my name I wish I could melt like snow on the ground I am but five years old, yet I feel old My eyes are swollen I have no tears left to cry My body hurts from the beating last night I must be stupid I must be bad Why else would she be angry? I would like to be better I can try harder, I know I can I wish I was as ugly as a monster I wish I was the one who died Maybe then laying lifeless in her arms Maybe then I would feel her hugs I should not speak I must do no wrong I must be good or she will lock me up I am always alone yet I must smile Darkness is my company as the hours go by Lost in my world trying not to go mad I will try to be good If she hits me, let it be just once Do not make a noise My bedroom doors open I cannot cry for her to help She will not come He is here one more time What does he want this time? But my soul already knows What my mind fights I can smell the cheap alcohol He screams around A thunderous sound I try to hide I feel so scare And I begin to cry He finds me crying The insults start to come He says I deserve this It is all my fault Then he starts to hit me As if I were nothing but a wall I start to scream I try to run But my body hurts My bones give in and I fall I must try to stand I hear only the echo of his words I cannot understand them anymore I wish I could ran to dad His friend rushes in They both spit and laugh "forgive me" I scream Too late, they have begun First the blows Then the humiliations I am really hurting I ask God for mercy Finally, the end has come As they walk to the door I lay on the cold ground I feel barely alive I think I'm between worlds... I am but five years old Through their merciless actions They have stolen my life I am five years old... And on this night I died. -Sofia E. Falcone-