Pain's Forgotten Child

 
see me three years old
with a schizophrenic mother
 
they say babies learn  
how to communicate
with the world around them
in the formative years
age birth to three
 
I had a mom who would look blankly at me
communicating only with the voices she heard
my dad would come home  
to a baby screaming in her crib
while my mom rocked a baby blanket
body soaked in piss
from a day worth of neglect
 
my parents divorced when I was one
my mom was a good actress
she convinced the courts she was a good mother
and in those days the mother always got custody
 
I had brothers age sixteen and fifteen
mom didn't look after me
they did
I was often locked in the closet
I was an angry child and feral as they come
they couldn't handle me
 
I wasn't alone though
no, not ever
I heard a voice inside me
and one outside me  
looking on as I grew
I believe now it was the devil himself
God inside, Lucifer outside
 
don't weep for me though
I was prepared for the life I would live
I remember taking my first steps
that is to say I was made aware
at an early age
I remember drinking a bottle
climbing out of my crib
 
at age three my mom  
just walked away one day
left me abandoned in a house
no electricity
I didn't get scared
mommy had done this before
she would be back
 
social workers picked my brothers up at school
somehow I was forgotten about
left there for three days and nights
finally on day three
the police showed up guns drawn
I tried to blend in with the wall
 
I remember begging the social worker
take me home with you
I'll be a good girl
rage, rage, rage
you see i'm angry and I know why
but I can't connect with the pain
it's too great
 
there are no tears in my eyes
as I write this there is nothing
but a protector trying to rise
an alter ego ready to say fuck you all
and tell you a fantastic story
so far from reality,  
my feet don't touch the ground
 
I can't connect with this child
who was fed scraps from the table
like she was a dog
who pissed herself  
because she was emotionally damaged
then had her nose rubbed in it
by Christian foster parents
 
who became an adult  
screaming at the skies
when the police asked her why
the answer I gave
I'm angry at God
 
I'm still angry
I've been taught  
don't show it, don't you dare
or they will drug you up
and throw you in a padded cell
left there all night
pissing and shiting on the floor
an animal not fit for society
 
this is me