Waiting Poem by Ash Desrocher

Waiting for the truth to come to light,
like my mother used to say.
The light,
however,
never shined down to the dark,
no one heard my story,
no one cared,
and no one believed a 13 year old.

I still feel your hands on me,
I still feel the branding I gave myself,
allowing myself to remember that night,
what you truly did,
not what you wanted everyone to believe.

I started seeing things,
memories,
flashbacks,
nightmares,
constant reminders that you,
someone I loved,
someone who knew me since I was born,
a family member,
a cousin,
you,
would do something like that.

No I sit here,
silently,
waiting,
and waiting,
for the truth,
to finally be exposed,
for someone,
to save me,
from the constant,
reoccurring,
reminders.