Survivors Poetry

Stolen

I was just 7 or 8 going off with a man in a lorry
Waving my mother goodbye little did I know I’ll be sorry
To a house which had yellow I stood in an empty room
until he called me to the bathroom
He stood naked a big willy I could see
he grabbed my hand on it I stood as still as still could be
While he did his business I never moved an inch

He was getting his PERVIE REWARD which all over my hand it goes
For a child to feel this no-one will ever know
I even got a REWARD - a doll with a black hat
I put it on my shelf at home and that was that

A second time arrived, I went again can’t remember waving to my mother
I stood in that room again a purple skirt too long for me
I can’t remember what top I had on

It was worse than the last time still as still could be
Not knowing what to do? THE Pervie only f***** me!
Getting his REWARD. Just a little child standing by a wall a fireguard near by
He pulled up my knickers – I was 7 or 8 years old, I didn’t even cry.

I’m crying now years later secret just come out
I’ve let it control my life it’s now getting sorted out!

The relationships I’ve had with men over the years was very trying
My teens, 20s, 30s, 40s never feeling right
That “still feeling” still comes over me, which I’m trying to put right.

The feeling of not knowing what to do eats you up inside
He’s taken away my Who of which I’m trying to find inside.

I feel I had something stolen which belonged to me
I’m very very angry now I’m just trying to be me.
It’s not easy after pretending all these years making out I’m sexy and good fun
But when it comes to sex or lovemaking I just want to run.

I’m working on it; I’m married with 2 lovely kids
My husband’s been very supportive but sometimes life is a myth.

I now have counselling, excepted I need help
I’ve done nothing wrong but child abuse makes you feel guilty and in a state
You think it will go away but it just hides and accumulates.

I’m going to WIN this battle how ever long it takes
I will get my Who back and put it in the right place.
I won’t give up hard at times it seems
I’ll have my Who back and nothing to control me.

If I can read this poem without getting in a state
I know I’m another step towards elate.

Poem by a survivor