Happy Anniversary

For me, generally,
poetry has never been
about sincerity
rather a lack thereof –
a methodical attempt
at avoiding honesty
feelings are no friend
not of mine, but you are

Seven years – I know
you do not read what I write
it’s embarrassing, I suppose
to pretend that you like it

But you have to know.
I was abused – when we met
and for years since
I was in the grip of a cycle
of behaviour – I was young
but I was never safe

I have had advantage taken
of me – had guilt ingrained
into the back of a young mind
self abuse was born of it from others
and I have been stuck saying sorry
ever since

I do have things to be sorry for –
the hole in the wall, the screams
when faced with everyday trials
you know – the simplest things
trigger and hit a part of my head
that was beaten and cracked
and you know I still flinch a little
sometimes

I shiver at hands on my skin
but I know – I can come home
I have been rescued daily
for seven years
I am healing – but I am not safe
I am born again in attic rooms
saved in the days I could be with you
and healed constantly by the coast

I can manage how i treat you
and I can manage myself
I know that I have been disappointing
fleeting, pathetic, I am weak
and I have a violence
give me seven more years
to give back what I have been given, here

Thank you is never enough,
and love seems a little weak
but lover and family, you have
been my only
and from abuse to victim
there is a library, a litany
of things you needn’t know
had you never met me

I recognise my mistakes,
my anger and petulance
I am a child, now
because I was never one

Give me seven more years,
here

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