Children are to be seen and not heard.

This echoed in my head

from the time I got out of bed.

I learned to cry without making a sound.

Ran to dark corners. Where I couldn't be found.

Held my dollys very tight and cryed myself to sleep most every night.  

I learned to accept abuse from strangers.

Not trust my mother, to keep me away from dangers.

My world smelt like beer.

Watching drunken behavior installed alot fear.

Mama never held me,  Daddy was at war.

Searching for food in the trash cans behide the neighborhood store.

We spent many nights alone, Trying to reach mother on the bar phone.

Having to raise ourselves the best that we knew

Getting bad grades and failing at school.

Falling asleep at class,trying to find answers at Mass.

I'ld close my eyes and try to find a happy place

But I often walked around with my head in space.

I was seen and not heard.

My feelings  had no word.

Denise

My brother in his earily 30's.

 Was found passed out unconscience in his car.

No one knew where he was.

He was awaiting death. He just wanted all the pain to go away.

With a needle stuck in his arm.

He isolated himself from the family because he couldn't stair his past in the face anylonger.

We had no idea. He had this drug problem. When we did find out. We had to visit him behide bars.

I witness his tears falling.  Like a lost child. Wanting his mother.

I hear him screaming for help.

I see his soul wondering around lost.

Not knowing which direction to turn.

His hair turning gray reminds him.

 How short his life has become.

Standing on the edge of breaking. He lost it all.

He lost his home, his wife and two unborn children by abortion.

To his selfish addiction. Allowing the devil to take control of his life.

He lives with the reputation that he built for himself. When he should of sought help.

Knowing that their may not ever be a return.

I send him a letter and tell him to share his story.

To make a difference in someone elses life.

So from his jail cell he writes.

I don't really know where to start with all my lifes story. I need some form of structure to work from.

I remember my first memory when I was about 2 1/2 years old living in a trailer in Texas. Where my step fater was stationed in the service. I remember taking a train down there.

I remember eating potato skins raw under the front porch of the trailer while playing in the dirt. I had a cast on my left leg because I fell down the second story steps because I was all excited about moving. I ran down the steps real fast pretending a monster was after me.

 I remember playing with matched on Winging Way. A real scummy area. I caught you on fire. When my step father found out.He put my hands over the stove fire and burnt both my hands badly. To teach me not to play with fire.

Than he goes on to say." I don't want to write anymore rite now. But I do remember it all. My childhood was all pain and suffering for the most part. Maybe thats why I ran away from the family when I met my wife Jennifer."

We are very lucky to have turned out the way we did.We all self learned from our childhoods and tried to better ourselves. So we didn't have to live a life like we did when we were growing up.

I will continue  my brothers story as he write to me.

My siblings scattered to ease the pain.

Leaveing my heart empty.

I call to them and only hear my echoe.

They're to scared to answer me.

So they hide in the darkness.

Watching me from a distance.

To make sure its safe.

They peak their heads out.

To only face the demand once again.

That corners them and drains their life. From their abused bodies.

Laying there lifeless.

They scream to me.

Go on without us.

My feet stop running.

Even though I promised myself that I would never look back

I can't leave them in hell alone.

Hanging my head. I risk going  back into the darkness.Once again.

Giving up my freedom to move on.

Denise

Sometimes I find myself gazeing out my once shatterd window.

Tears suddenly fill my eyes.

My world once so dark and scary.

Is now a place  of beaming light.

I now can see clearly all the beauty.

I've missed for so many years.

As the years past.

My world started having colors.

After so many years of darkness.

I see a sunset so beautifully painted.

The birds have a song.

The butterflys. Have a dance.

The air has a aroma.

The wind now has a breeze that I can feel for the first time.

When once I was numb.

My wounds have pain.

I now can cry tears of happiness.

When they use to only produce tears of sadness. 

Denise

My tears have turned bloody red.

From oozing wounds that never heal.

Pain that dwells within my mangled soul.

That  feeds off all the unresolved past issues.

My bloody tears have comforted me many times.

Though no one was ever there to witness their color.

My bloody tears left a trail.

That no one wanted to follow. 

Enstead kicking dirt over the droplets to cover the stains.

DENISE