What if...

 



What if you had held my hand gently, protectively, 

Instead of twisting it till angry red welts appeared.

Or if we walked together to school 

Chatting about our first loves or books and movies.

Instead of the fear, silence and awkward pauses,

As we both carried pain, heavy in our hearts 

Ugly wounds that were left ignored, raw, burning

Like a fire that never entirely died down

Always kept alive with that tiny angry red ember,

That neither of us knew quite how to stamp out.


What if I never heard those mind numbing sounds

Of violence, curse words and crying, 

The heart-stopping boom

Of doors slamming 

The cold, shocking crash 

Of glass shattering

That made a tiny child freeze in fear, 

Ring in my ears even today. 

No matter that I am a grown woman now

No longer tiny, nor afraid, yet still frozen

Wounds remain unhealed


What if I was never embarrassed to bring friends over...

Or had nothing to feel ashamed of?

If there was no shameful secret 

In the shape of a whole person at home.

If I never heard words that I want to wipe out from childhood memories...

If I never watched innocent white candles, and shiny teaspoons turn into enemies

Twisted, and stained filthy black once your hands were done with them.

Would I have grown into a different person...

Or would I have still been me?


What have you done? 

Living in oblivion. 

Indifferent to the trail of despair you left behind. 

Tears and fears we carry, all of us. 

Fears and tears that rub off on our precious children 

Born so innocent and pure.


Love pours out of me - a Mamma, just like an endless spring.

My babies and children protected with every ounce of my strength.

Yet that old slimy monster crawls slyly in.

And the stubborn, angry red stains appear everyday,

They creep in sneakily, present in a touch, in my choice of words and they shatter my every peaceful thought.


You and I lived different truths.

Yet,

Decades later, the burden is no lighter.

The fight is still tough.

The stains not faded.

Angry, red, raw...


They say time heals.

We'll see...


©️ Rebecca Manari 

21-1-'21

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