My Truth Is Not Your Dare. I Actual Lived There!

At a very young age, I stared at my Mother.  I realized in less than a breath, we were the same and I did not want to be.  What separated us on that very night, has kept us at bay for the entirety of my life.  The disbelief of what I saw them do, still disturbs my mind today.  I simply am aware of another kind.  Cruel, without sympathy, no conscious  never accountable and somehow, always right, I stared at this woman on that night, I asked myself nothing, I told myself everything.  One in the same, Ditto, a personal Ident of me, that is what I am looking at, an admission of total and absolute honesty.  In recognition of this brutal fact, I decided before I could know, it had to have been animal instinct that took over, a survival skill afforded me in a family that I was not meant to survive, I decided to do the opposite of everything that I saw my Mother do, from that day forward. She is what I never want to be, I thought to myself.  She is, to me, a horrible Human Being!  I would rather be "an it," "a thing," "the spawn of satan," "the daughter of the devil himself," I would rather be everything they are calling me, than to be what I see in front of me and to do what I have witnessed them doing.  I decided while in a trance of complete horror, at that which had just been done directly in front of me, that I just don't agree.  I don't believe that taking a life is right.  This is not correct for me.  Inside of this moment of grief and terror, I bare this fragment of bitter truth and coarse reality.  She was wrong to do what she had done, I did not run, I was still within my very core, for Fear could be no more than this scene was to me.  With a remembrance that shall end up being my deliverance from this life of terror and horror, I recount in written form a memory based on reality. It's not a movie, 'cause I'm not dead yet.  The bitter truth of this World, is your blindness to it.

Looking into the eyes of no one,

realizing that I was alone,

in thought, 

in action,

and subsequently would be in life itself.

I made a decision and I was not stealth.

I will do the opposite of everything I see her do,

I will be what she is not to me,

accountable for all I see.

In this,

I will find my own personal liberty.

It is wrong to take a life,

it can't be right,

no matter the strife that you may have felt on that night.

Be it psychological, 

be it metaphorical, 

be it physical,

be it suicide,

there is no justice for the dead in such a heinous act.

With nothing more than a reactive state of mind,

I decided and I had realized,

I am her, but I cannot be what I see,

for in that, I abhor, what seems a chore, for even more.

What will I do?

I am a witness to you.

My life is forced into do?

In an instant I was,

and could not be,

what I see,

it terrorized me.

I was numb with what was there in plain sight,

for me to have to end up to be at night.

I knew I was right,

to do what was wrong.

Deny the Family Throng!

I try to face the Nightmares,

they take me back to Day-mares,

each night I rack my brain,

I try not to complain,

the memories are just so insane,

reminding me of why I am so drained.

The Daylight hours wane,

I spend most of them in vain,

desperately trying to beat the disdain,

so that I may remain to bare witness to whom has claimed,

they are Ordained.

Why?, Oh Why?,

must People still be,

beating Me for what I have seen?

It's all those fucking memories,

I know that they are key,

I speak with honesty.

I know with absolute certainty,

I have bore witness to atrocities,

of which few believe.

Never asked,

only blamed,

told to feel only shame,

for the deeds of which no one will explain.

I am startled by Humanity,

and it's lack of inquiry into this family.

The years have proven,

that nobody cares for anyone out there.

Children are DEAD!!

And yet you have said,

"Prove it, it's all in your head."

No need,

you speak for me,

the ignorant still believe.

That's O.K. with Me,

for the fool is an idiot on reprieve.

And I am the survivor of all of thee.

I need to dream,

because of all I have seen.

My reality is obscene,

and proves to be really mean.

I can't speak on what I have never seen.

Anyone stand against my Family.

It has always only been Me.

My Truth is no Dare,

just despair speaking to whom might care,