my capacity to feel what others are feeling changes me. i say this as i listen to my little sister scream as my dad takes everything out of her room leaving her with nothing. they got in a fight obviously. my dad has power over here because of money. obviously. money equal power. age equal power. its not that we are keeping eachother accountable. its that we are showing power and we are getting what we want. what do we want? we want to come home from work and have peace. we want to come home from work and realise we dont have more work at home. we want to come home from work and make it seem like the world revolves around our ass. well guess what. it does revolve around your ass and now everyone hates you.
these screams. this one and that one. are weakness. they say that you got the better of me and now im making noises that no human normally makes. its not the sound of breathing expressing life, or the sound of a heartbeat expressing passion. its the sounds of terror. and this terror is coming from my little sister.
im back in a place i havnt been to in a long time. im 4 and i was just molested. im carried home with each step feeling like the last 2 hours. and the last 2 hours has been constant poking and prodding and touching and feeling and holding and grabbing and scratching and clawing. im 4 years old. and i have never screamed more. i have never, nor will ever, be in so much pain. i get home and everything is taken from me, my dignity the first to go. it is my fault. that is what is repeatedly being screamed at me. its my fault.
well i guess that power got you where you wanted. i guess that power holds you high at night in your big castle of an empty heart. i guess that power gets you what you wanted all along. you are feared, but not the way we are suppose to fear God, and not quite the way i fear spiders...but you are feared. im so afraid i never talk to you. im so afraid i cry myself to sleep at night. i am so afriad that i cut and cut and cut away at the pounds on my body. the less of me the more you will love me. because the more i am there the more you hate. the more you yell. but maybe i could disappear and i would be more beautiful to the world. because maybe its not just you, dad, that looks at me like this...maybe theres more of you giants all over the world.
therapy has told me to love you. therapy has told me you didnt know better. therapy has told me a lot of things, but tonight all i hear are the screams i let out the night i was 4 years old.
