I'm a monster, I'm filled with rage that I desperately try to contain inside of my heart, but in stead of getting better it's getting worst. It's hell trying to run away from your past, when your body is riddled with it, the scares both the physical and mental scars of my past. I was taken from my home at a young age and forced to learn a new language, to serve someone, and was punish if it wasn't to their liking. I tried to lock my past into a mental vault so it would pain less.
But this dark feelings I feel get darker they hunt me, I wake up in cold sweats at nights crying pleading someone, not to hurt me. I know I should forgive, god commands it but it's hard the vault isn't as strong as I hope it would be. They leak out like little rivers of angry, hate and murderous thoughts, I try to cover it up. I try to forget but every time I look at myself I see my scars the ones I got, from the whippings the punishment from the true monsters. I deeply hate them for what they did to me...they took my childhood, my innocence it makes my blood boil every time I think about it.
I lie to people everyday, I smile crack jokes I put on a mask a front so they won't worry. I became the party girl, the drinking girl, the girl who is forever young, the girl that has no worries in the world. Never I want people to see the real me, they say 2P's are born out of the darkest movement in a country's life. I believe that I already have one...she's out there somewhere...the darkest movement in my life had passed. I believe all the slave countries had 2P's before another they had to go thru seeing their country be raped of it's land and resources. Seeing it's people being shipped off to far away places for cheap labor, that's a shame a pain no country could get over. They people look at you for protection and you can't do anything. Me...I was taken when I was child myself I couldn't do anything even if I wanted too. I was so young and scared at the time.
I hate them.
I hate the ones that did this to me, two of them are my brothers. Brothers, they put me thru hell the most of my life. I can't hate them, I love them but I still harbor ill feelings towards them, they used me for their own gain and didn't even think about my welfare. They left my country in ruins when they where finish with me, expecting to pick up the pieces they left behind. One did come back and help, that made forgiving him easier but the feeling of rage is still there...why? Why did you do what you did, you didn't have to do it. Pigs.
Slowly.
Slowly my heart is healing growing brighter more accepting, loving towards my family, I'm cracked and I know it. I need to seal this crack so I can fully get on with my left, well that's easier than said.