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 Community ForumsFacebook Connect and LikeIvory Garden Dissociative Identity Disorder Support GroupRecommended Sites Dissociative Identity Disorder Ivory Garden Support Website       ***** "The past does not equal the present, nor does it define the future." - Willard Barth  |
Sunkissed hair. Pretty blue dress Smiling without a care. The picture tells all What you want to see. Happy little girl Life is carefreee. Time passes by Her smile begins to fade. The picture tells all Nothing to say Another picture appears Her eyes are turning grey. The pictures tell all She has a price to pay. Frozen in time Her body has grown thin. The picture tells all What you see might sting. Another picture is taken A ghost of a girl. The picture tells all As it shatters to the floor. Keep your eyes closed, As he cleans up the mess. The picture disappears Pretend she isn't d*ad. © Deb N. Her body is a temple. Scrutinized by all Most particularly by her She can never make it look perfect. It is pointed out to her...that she is not working hard enough She works harder. She is told never to let anyone destroy her outer beauty Of course, that is only if there is visible imperfection. Inside is different. Fair game for all!! HATRED Losing her grip on reality. She tries to make her body disappear Thinner and Thinner She is told to stop whining like a baby Her life is good She cracks Skin and bones She marches up to them, arms bl*eding profusely. A dead look in her eyes. What does she hear next? Laughter © Deb N. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful little girl. She lived in a beautiful house with a white picket fence. Everyone loved her. Then her mother got tired of her talking and put her in a shoe box. She placed her on a shelf in the back of the closet. Everyone missed her. But moved on. Until, He found her. That was the beginning of the end. And now, she is no longer beautiful. She is used. She is broken. She craves d*ath. © Deb N. Quiet, don't tell, Locked in a body, her own personal hell. The men will return, She will not run away, They will rip her to shreds, She will not escape. She closes her eyes, Not wanting to be seen, Laughter is golden, It covers the screams. Nobody to see, Nobody to hear, Covered in bl*od, Alone with her fear. © Deb N. Just who I was way back then, And that's okay because you were you And I was me that's okay too And even though the house looked safe No one really had a face And children never dared to say No i would really rather play And problems hid behind the doors They didn't matter anymore. And outside was a masquerade. A game we played to hide the pain. And when at night we'd shut the door. And sometimes you were there for me And other days I'd wish you'd leave And when at night I'd go to bed I'd be confused and wish you de*d I'd feel it was all my fault I'd feel I was very small I'd feel that I could not sleep No privacy was mine to keep I'd feel others were mine to help Whatever price my cards were dealt I'd feel I would have to share, strength and love when I was scared And never, ever dare to show Or ever let another know That behind the smiles, behind the day Lived a child whose nights were grey We knew the children lived no more. **** The path is worn The skies will storm The days are clear The nights are torn The eyes will watch They will not see The doors are locked There is no key Nobody tries Nobody will So many whispers They cover the shrills the darkness is silent The light is so weak Silence is golden It covers the screams The nights become longer The days become less The light is dying The path is a mess.... © Deb N. |