An old incision,

Its edge freshly razor sharp,

Deep penetrating wound full of infection,

As I look at my reflection,

In wonder...perplexed as to how much I have hidden...repressed,

Was I to believe the altercations were in my hands?

Repression makes this unclear,

Yet so present the emotional bruising,

Purples - blacks - blues,

An ocean of unscathed emotions...in need of exploration to deal,

How could it happen?

Was I not a good girl?

Everything they wanted me to be?

Seems my innocence was perverted,

And so my behaviour patterns altered,

Possibility now that I believe to gain respect I must disrespect,

To lay eyes on you I would kill with a glance,

I HATE every foul piece of your berating pitiful self,

And while I will never forget I need to leave the pain,

But the hatred and eternal shame lives on,

In my eyes,

Actions,

And in my poisoned heart from my exploited innocent body.

- Amanda Raics