"So Much Pain"

feel nothing but pain...headaches, tummy hurt.....but feel nothing inside....the chambers are quiet....feel like somethin going to happen....forgetting how to spell some words and the number 8...why cant we write the number 8....our hand shakes, our fingers jump all over....when we write number 8......maybe we write poem now about number 8....yeah good thing to do.....

"Number Eight"

lost, lonely soul, little girl
of eight...

no longer innocent,
spirit and imagination gone.

sad, joyless, little girl
of eight....

feelings of shame,
for what had been done.

so tired of life, little girl
of eight....

wanting death,
to just to end the pain.

come with us, little girl
of eight....

wanting to follow,
the voices within.

stay with "us", little girl
of eight....

listening to the whispers
that come in the night.

you belong with "us", little girl
of eight....

feelings of comfort
disappearing forever within.

~eight~

"The truth about our childhood is stored up in our body and although we repress it, we can never alter it. Our intellect can be deceived, our feelings manipulated. our perceptions confused and our body tricked with medication. But someday the body will present its bill, for it is as incorruptible as a child who, still whole in spirit, will accept no compromises or excuses, and it will not stop tormenting us until we stop evading the truth".