deepundergroundpoetry.com
Because of Me
The guilt and regret won't leave my mind as I enter this church for you
All our memories keep swirling through my brain as I sit here on this wooden pew.
I can't bring myself to talk about you; when asked I say I have just one sister
For the pain I feel when I think of you burns within me like a thousand boiling blisters.
I wish I could still say I had two sisters, that I wasn't always the family's "baby"
If only I had been braver and stronger back then, maybe, just maybe,
You, baby sister, would still be here, and I never would've had to say goodbye
But instead I'm at your funeral, and I know it's my fault you're here...I'm the one who let you die.
As your small casket passes by, I can't stop the quivering sobs, or the stream of tears
And my mind forces me again and again to relive that day, like a never ending nightmare.
You were five at the time, and I had just turned eight
We'd been through many foster homes, some halfway decent, others not so great.
But this house was worse than the others; the people were crueler, the beatings more severe
I should've done something in the beginning, maybe begged our workers to take us far away from here.
Yet I did nothing, but instead tried to prepare you for the agonizing days to come
I told you to expect more empty stomachs, and beatings that would leave us numb.
For though I knew this house was worse, I thought we'd survive the same way
We'd listen to the yelling, endure the pain, and hope that tomorrow would be a better day.
Until the day came where our foster father decided to prove me oh so wrong
The day he beat you just a little too much, for just a little too long.
You had tried to take some food from the pantry, for the stomach pains were finally too much to bear
But you were caught by him, and he didn't listen to your pleading or begging, for he simply didn't care.
I thought it was just another beating, and so I stood waiting in the shadows in the hall
I didn't want to make it worse, or get beat myself, so I watched even as he threw you against the wall.
Over and over he beat you with with his fists, and with his belt
And still I waited, praying he'd stop soon, so I could attend to your bruises and your welts.
But he was not himself, but high off of one of the many drugs he had in his secret room
And as the minutes dragged by, I began to feel overwhelmed by a sense of doom.
When his hand reached for the wooden bat his son used for baseball, my heart stopped
I screamed at him, but still watched helplessly as the bat quickly dropped.
I can still hear it in my ears, the crack of the bat as it smashed against your head
I can still see it with my eyes, the sight of your blood splattering against the wall, painting it dark red.
As others saw what had happened and dragged him away, I ran to you, but no matter how hard I tried
I couldn't wake you up, and finally had to admit, that my little sister had just died.
And so here I am, weeks later, staring at your lifeless body, wishing that I could once again see those beautiful blue eyes
Unable to block out all the sorrow and pain, while wondering over and over why.
Why did I do nothing to save you, why did I give in to my fear
This regret is something I know I'll have to live with for the many upcoming years.
With tear filled eyes and a broken heart, I tell you I'm sorry, give you one last kiss, and slowly walk away
Praying that perhaps I'll be forgiven, so that I may see you again in Heaven one day.
All our memories keep swirling through my brain as I sit here on this wooden pew.
I can't bring myself to talk about you; when asked I say I have just one sister
For the pain I feel when I think of you burns within me like a thousand boiling blisters.
I wish I could still say I had two sisters, that I wasn't always the family's "baby"
If only I had been braver and stronger back then, maybe, just maybe,
You, baby sister, would still be here, and I never would've had to say goodbye
But instead I'm at your funeral, and I know it's my fault you're here...I'm the one who let you die.
As your small casket passes by, I can't stop the quivering sobs, or the stream of tears
And my mind forces me again and again to relive that day, like a never ending nightmare.
You were five at the time, and I had just turned eight
We'd been through many foster homes, some halfway decent, others not so great.
But this house was worse than the others; the people were crueler, the beatings more severe
I should've done something in the beginning, maybe begged our workers to take us far away from here.
Yet I did nothing, but instead tried to prepare you for the agonizing days to come
I told you to expect more empty stomachs, and beatings that would leave us numb.
For though I knew this house was worse, I thought we'd survive the same way
We'd listen to the yelling, endure the pain, and hope that tomorrow would be a better day.
Until the day came where our foster father decided to prove me oh so wrong
The day he beat you just a little too much, for just a little too long.
You had tried to take some food from the pantry, for the stomach pains were finally too much to bear
But you were caught by him, and he didn't listen to your pleading or begging, for he simply didn't care.
I thought it was just another beating, and so I stood waiting in the shadows in the hall
I didn't want to make it worse, or get beat myself, so I watched even as he threw you against the wall.
Over and over he beat you with with his fists, and with his belt
And still I waited, praying he'd stop soon, so I could attend to your bruises and your welts.
But he was not himself, but high off of one of the many drugs he had in his secret room
And as the minutes dragged by, I began to feel overwhelmed by a sense of doom.
When his hand reached for the wooden bat his son used for baseball, my heart stopped
I screamed at him, but still watched helplessly as the bat quickly dropped.
I can still hear it in my ears, the crack of the bat as it smashed against your head
I can still see it with my eyes, the sight of your blood splattering against the wall, painting it dark red.
As others saw what had happened and dragged him away, I ran to you, but no matter how hard I tried
I couldn't wake you up, and finally had to admit, that my little sister had just died.
And so here I am, weeks later, staring at your lifeless body, wishing that I could once again see those beautiful blue eyes
Unable to block out all the sorrow and pain, while wondering over and over why.
Why did I do nothing to save you, why did I give in to my fear
This regret is something I know I'll have to live with for the many upcoming years.
With tear filled eyes and a broken heart, I tell you I'm sorry, give you one last kiss, and slowly walk away
Praying that perhaps I'll be forgiven, so that I may see you again in Heaven one day.
Published 12th Apr 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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Anonymous
13th Apr 2012 7:19pm
Caleb this is sooooo sad :( I am so sorry! You are very strong to have had to deal with this, thank you for sharing this with us...you have put this very tragic story into poetry very well. Wowww this really made me cry :( RIP sweet little Angel Girl
22nd May 2012 5:04pm
Thank you Milkyway :) sorry, didn't see you had commented -__- took a minute before I decided I would post this poem lol.
22nd May 2012 4:01pm
22nd May 2012 5:04pm
24th Sep 2012 9:29pm
24th Sep 2012 9:41pm
Anonymous
8th Jan 2013 10:44am
Heart-wrencher.
Poignant writing and lovely style, evoking many emotions. I may have been angrier, but guess that'd impotent at that age....
Feels so real, this.
Secret rooms people have, hey.
Such a beautifully written piece.
Thanks for sharing, C M.
Pen more stuff.
Tidespotter
Poignant writing and lovely style, evoking many emotions. I may have been angrier, but guess that'd impotent at that age....
Feels so real, this.
Secret rooms people have, hey.
Such a beautifully written piece.
Thanks for sharing, C M.
Pen more stuff.
Tidespotter
24th Jul 2015 4:24am
