Broken Boys Poem by Dash Mcpeek

This poem brings to mind an eleven year old boy standing in the office of his school guidance counselor and trying his best to find the words to talk about what no little boy ever even ought to have to know about. I can't imagine that I've ever encountered another soul in life who was quite so courageous than he. Courageous not to dare to cry out, but courageous to keep on fighting in that war far too big for little boys after that counselor slammed his door on my face and told me not to use such things as an excuse to leave class. I could only tell him that my tummy hurt - that's as much as I could tell him. In actuality, I had been brutally raped only a week earlier that left me bleeding for many days. My rescuers never came. My heroes never showed up. I fought that war alone. I think that maybe one of the most devastating effects of early childhood trauma is how it leaves you lonely in a strange new and terrifying reality about who humanity really are.