THE CHILD WITHIN

“I don’t love you anymore.”
she said to me one night.
That’s how it all began,
the phrase that sent
my ten-year old life
into a downward spiral.

Exiled from our home
one cold December twenty-sixth
my father, brother and I
sought residential refuge
in a rat and roach infested apartment
on the rough side of town.

The seductive dance
of my father’s cigarette smoke
sentenced our lungs
to respiratory complications,
for open windows were forbidden.

The awful memories
that continue to haunt me,
The room where it happened…

“God won’t forgive you.”
he said to me.
“I’m trying to teach you something.”
he told me after many nights
of creeping into my bedroom,
my cries silenced by his brutal slaps.

She did not come to rescue me
but she returned, instead, for my brother.
She knew I had been ruined
and she blamed me for their divorce.

Like a soldier on the frontline alone
I plunged into the world in secret
leaving everything behind.
College was my only way out of
the living hell that was my life.


“God, please, make the nightmares go away.”
I’d pray everyday.
What was it that kept
my steps going anyway?

I am the rose
that never blooms
its roots
destroyed by decay.

I am the little girl
trapped behind
the eyes of a woman.
And I, a woman
fear for the safety of my daughter
and greedily guard the love of my husband.

“God, please, make the nightmares go away.”
I continue to pray.

I can still feel his tongue
And his scratchy beard
Violating my virginal youth.

The awful memories
that continue to haunt me
As I hold my daughter close
Promising never to leave her,
never to hurt her
and to love her unconditionally.

What is it
that has replaced my smile?

“God, why won’t the nightmares go away?”
I ask in despair of the seemingly vacant air?

I am the rose
that never blooms,
the broken soul
in need of repair,
the eyes of a child
trapped in the body of a woman.

Candace Nadine Breen 12/20/2008