Defining My Childhood Poem by dawnsue hillman

A child of rape.
A raped child.
My first attempt at suicide at age 5.
Taught to lie and manipulate the people I 'love' as my Mother lied to me, manipulated me, traded me for drugs, sold me for money. Taught to hold it all in, to hide it behind my smile.
Statistics say I will become a child raper.
Statistics say I will soon succeed at my self hating suicide attempts.
Who will win the race?
The pain I hold inside is leaking out, what if I make a mess?
People around me are dieing but yet I am still here to grieve, to RAGE!
The rage is new, I don't know what to do with it.
I hit myself to force it back into the sweaty holes in my mind.
Bruises on my brain left from my past making new bruises on my body, pretty on my legs.
Realised years ago I would never even get close to being socially acceptable. Why won't society just let me go now? I am a leech on resources, never pulling my own weight. I think about these things everyday. Wishing Death with his cold hand would find me, here I am! !