Teacher. Friend. Preacher.
Dictator. Liar. Thief.
They all describe him.

He took me in and sheltered me.
Then beat me down and weltered me.
Made my silence complete.
For if I told, then a lesson he'd teach.
A lesson of imcompetence.
With no scale meaning or valid
Sentence.
So.....
There I would stay.
There I would wait.
In silence.
For my freedom day.

He lured me in with false pretenses.
Sweet embraces. Sheltered Fences.
Then locked the door and began again
the horror.
Another year. This time much scorner.

Finally, a freedom call.
From the blade down the hall.
The blade. It called out to me.
It said: "Slice your arms and you wil be
free. The blood will free you from captivity."

It was freedoms call that I was heeding,
while I sat there with my arms bleeding.
Not once did I start screaming. For at last
I would be free,

My anger had finally been released.
My spirit had for the first time felt peace.
My life in this bondage would no be deceased.

Looking back, I know that particular slavery
is the reason why
in my life now I seldom cry.
For if you look closely at my arms, it is there
my tears you will find.

(author's note: in my childhood i attempted suicide over a dozen times. I was the victim of molestation everyday for 3 years. No sympathy needed for i have progressed past it. but i use my experiences to tell the story of so many others like me who are afraid to talk. if you are reading this and you have or are going through this situation, TELL someone, TALK about it, then WRITE.)