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She speaks with only the force
which has followed and filled a life
few would understand or believe.
Grabbing an ear when she could,
to stop the intensity of the pain
that takes her to a dark place,
traps her in time until a nudge
brings her back to face the day.

In this reality she must accept choices
that have brought her to this place,
where she stands in silence,
until a time when she can scream.
Is the proof on the pages of a book,
or in the lines on her face
where her smile hides a frown?
Unguarded, thinking of her days,
joys keep her from crossing to despair.

A child's laughter lifts her,
releases the horror of the shocks,
brought on by the grind of existing,
as she moves forward and back again.
Hiding in the humanness that she is,
hovering to belong; normal, real, true.
Covered by a mask from evil minds,
quick to judge a story for which
they have only read one of the chapters.

She'd share but fear keeps it inside,
for just like others there's dignity, pride.
Holding her together as a day begins,
how can she know she'll be strong?
Will the passage of time show a new light,
ease her terror, reveal her harmed plight.
What does she say when asked who she is?
I am who I...............................