I cannot begin to described all the
things you confessed to me
what your dad did to you how he
went away with another mum.
You with only mum her drinking the
crazy things she does
leaving you locked in your room
only jars to pee in I know it was awkward
jars with small tops..sorry...
You and your strange brother his goat
you told me about
you need to tell some one other than me..
You not even...well...and nine mothers..your
real mum///a prostitute
having to by force become addicted to heroin
to do the things to keep a dream that was never
alive except when it was you she had so long ago..
You your friends mother..ashamed being not a she
and having to endure it afraid your friends will find
out a diffrent kind of pride one never mentioned
You all of you and the others your confessions
brought to light some of which some small comfort
in knowing we know now you know your confessions
can and do make you free to...tell...me the rest..of
your stories....unashamed..
maybe not proud..yet a voice..that hears in the dark...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i love this poem keep up the great work Ashleymarie