THE CRY OF A CHILD
WRITEN BY: ELEISE TRENDA DATE: (2016, revised/finished 6/5/17)
Little girl,
wild soul,
pure heart,
big searching eyes,
Wandering.
They say,
Trust the monster.
No,
Trust is something you gain not given,
Dead.
The child laughed, cried, played, listened to the sound of familiar voices.
It stood by her side,
The rattling sounds echoed her memory.
Kiss the monster.
No,
my burnt lips can not taste the lies of its splintered teeth, can not feel the touch of its cold cheek.
Broken.
Ripping of her flesh as it takes its first bite
Respect the monster.
No,
Respect comes from love and good actions, not from shallow hearts. Bloody remarks,
Lies.
Its words pierced her heart as it whispered in her ear stealing her pureness,
Happiness
in exchange for lustfulness,
Depression.
Honor the monster….
No,
One takes honor with pride and crowned with justice. The act of honor is much stronger than the crippled words that roll off the tongue of the noble minded.
The child starved in the amorphous corner of melancholy and thirsted for a way out of the well that was boiling her name; Anxiety.
Love the monster.
No,
You have to fight for true love. It’s not just a word that can be thrown wherever you chose. Love is not always a boomerang.
Fallen.
The monster placed a bomb, labeled forgiveness, in the trembling hands of the child.
Is forgiveness just as destructive as a grenade in the hands of a suicide bomber?
Am I the suicide bomber?
Will I-can I- destroy this suit we call a body…?
End my world.
Forgiveness, Forgiveness,
Forgiveness,
Consuming my mind, trickling down every vein
- But the Monster.
Hurt is the only thing I can think of when I see - no! I can’t stand It’s piercing eyes staring down my chest. All Oxygen fled with the sight of him, giving lust the space to consume my every breath. Squeezing my body until hollowed out bones were all that’s left.
How am I expected to forgive?
Trigger.
Trigger.
Trigger…
The humor in this is I actually did love this monster- excuse me, Monster’s. You see there are multiple. Three to be exact.
The first,
She was the first one to persuade me, taking the first bite. Robbing me of my happiness, introducing me to heartbreak and let down, and destroying all trust for humanity. Yet coward, not wanting to look me in the face as she took my hand under the blankets. Oh of course, you told me you were sleeping and it didn’t happen.
The second,
It all started with a piano and being late to class. With every note pulling me to your voice, I knew. You were my first true love. Four years passed and I told you. You tole me you have known all along. It ended that night. One night, one drunken text, and he stole the only innocence I was saving for him. Taking my body and betraying me, using me only for my skin and loving me only for a while. I was just something to enjoy, he said.
The third,
He was just another reminding me I was weak, and took me back to the first. He reminded me I am just a body, and made me realized that I had never been someone's first love. I am only the rebound, but it's okay, really.
He was mine too.
Forgive the monster,
No,
I can’t. I hate them, yet I love them and I can’t find the peace in this raging sea to silence my mind to take a breath. Forgiving them would release them to roam free. I’ll lose all control. They continually make me weak but without the monster always nagging at my feet, I don't know how to stay awake. I find my strength within the weight.
Forgive the human, my heart tells me.
The human who stole your joy. Who started the war. The monster who opened your eyes to young to the thing’s sin has to offer.
The human who stole your “I love you”. Who used your body for their pleasure. Who you shared your heart with. Who showed you how you saw yourself.
The human who reminded you of all the pain and blood you’ve spared. Who told you you were a regret. Who shoved lies down your throat.
For they are only flesh and bone.
Forgiveness will only make you stronger.
-My soul told me
The child forgave the monster.
She drank from the well that yelled her name
BEAUTIFUL
and ate from the tree that gave her a REASON for LIVING!
One more thing.
Sweetheart, forgive the child.
The child who blamed herself for the hurt that was thrown on her.
The child who devalued herself because she didn’t think she was worth it.
The child who believed the lies that she was told.
The child who just wanted to be set free.
The child who got tired of trying, who wanted to give up.
That little girl is much stronger than the pain and joy that molded her story.
That little girl is beautiful and nothing less.
That young woman has a story to tell.
The child grew older and forgave herself. She heard nothing, silence surrounded her. The war was over and her mind was thoughtless.
Young woman,
wild soul,
fixed heart,
big warming eyes,
Found.
Breath. Alive. Free.
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125,005 Literary Works • 672,804 Reviews
This is Nikayla here dropping in for a review on Review Day!
The first aspect of this poem that I noticed to be a little odd is the overall aesthetic. It's all over the place too. While you're not doing anything inconsistent with the grammar and most of this is pretty straightforward, you go from single lines to stanzas and the look of the poem overall just isn't that great. I suggest giving this poem a fine polishing, or to be more specific, I suggest giving this poem some shape and some thought behind the way you decide to structure this, because it matters. I want to see the punctuation used tastefully but that's not what the reader receives. There's a lot of periods and one-liners that are forced when you're allowed to develop and flesh out your lines, and the structure of the line doesn't have to be with just commas either.
Line breaks vary from dragging all the way across the page to dropping to a new line after two words, and that part is a little weird for me too in regards to the overall look. Delving into the content of the piece, there's this hurt child, making this a more serious subject matter. I'm not sure I'm a fan of the ending because it's so immediate. I don't see the shift or development in-between the little girl getting better. All we see of her is her getting better.
This is pretty drenched in inner thoughts and other monologue that does on inside the head, which is actually interesting. This doesn't equate to this girl getting better. There had to be some sort of struggle for her to get better, a strong one if she's completely okay now, because it doesn't happen in one day. Maybe the trigger to her getting better is a specific day but the path is a long and winding road and people can get lost again sometimes. At least, that's how I've found it to be, especially if the child is suffering through something like this.
If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask! I hope I helped and have a great day.
That was weird, I'm not gonna lie. Weird, but not bad exactly. Your language is cool, there are some good ideas in there, but the story is confusing. There isn't really a plot or a message. The formatting is weird. I was kinda confused about what I was reading. There is some strong emotion in this piece, but the message is unclear.