Conflict With An Inner Childs Voice

Soppose I'm acting, Soppose that I'm mad,
twisted and crazy, or hopeless and bad...
Perhaps I am lying, and what if that's so?
If I'm good at pretending, then how will you know?
Can I trust you to see what is false....what is true?
If I can't believe me, why put hope in you?
That you'll be there to guide me, and help me be strong...
I think that I am  right, but what if I am wrong?
And what if they're truthful, and she really was good
and kind, warm and funny....and misunderstood?
And what if that child whose truth I've denied
Is a liar, a mad thing, best silenced inside?
Why should I trust her? She's not safe...she's not calm
She fills me with fear and she bleeds from my arm.
I can't bear to see her, she's hurting to much,
And I silence her screams as I shrink from her touch.
I hate her with passion, because she was hurt
little, and helpless, a temptress...a flirt.
I hate her with strength no words could express
hate that sweet pretty face and that little pink dress.
A vulnerable female, just right to abuse...
love was the gain...but what did she loose?
Safety adn happiness, a sense of what's real,
innocent trust, and being able to feel...
Except for the fear, the terror, the pain,
running away, just to feel it again.
Again it repeats in her mind, in her heart,
ripping and mending and tearing apart.
No escape and no healing...no motherly arms...
to hold and keep safe and protect from these harms.
No where to hide, nowhere to go...
No one to tell....who wants to know?
So she cuts and bleeds, and she shows them the hurt,
But still no one listens, they treat her like dirt.
Because nothing is wrong....and grownups know best,
So nothing is asked...no secrets confessed.
Until 30 years later, the secrets burst out
Not wanted, not planned, full of fear...full of doubt.
It couldn't have happened, it can not be real...
She's a liar, a mad thing....but starting to feel...
And again as she bleeds and asks herself why...
She thinks she's gone mad and makes herself try
to listen and make sense of her voice of her past
and finds too that someone else listens ...at last!
So I'm screaming inside,"Please don't listen to me,
What if you believe me then where would I be?"
Please don't trust me, don't listen, the story's not true...
No one listened before, so why should you?
I'm so scared and so frightened, Is it worse I should be
twisted and crazy, or truthful and free?
Is it worse you believe me or worse that you doubt?
that I'm upright and honest or that you find me out?
One voice cries "Believe me! Truth begs to be known!"
the other cries," Silence......just leave me alone!"
And I want truth to win, and the coin has been tossed,
And whichever sides chosen...I know that I've lost!