Despite my bleeding wounds

By: Jackelin Chambi

 

Despite my bleeding wounds,

I still study and go to school.

 

Despite my bleeding wounds,

I sit in front of my teacher and sit patiently willing to learn.

 

Despite my bleeding wounds, I am strong,

I have to be strong, to go on.

 

Despite my bleeding wounds,

I still learn and acquire satisfying grades.

 

Despite my oozing fresh wounds,

I sit with a smile on my face.

 

The dark, quiet nights,

I lay in my bed,

my memories stab me,

torment me until I numb my brain with homework.

 

I remember when my father left us,

he left us alone in a small, dusty, efficiency.

my mother begged, Oh yes she did,

almost on her weak knees did she beg for him to not leave us,

we basically had just arrived.

 

Despite my bleeding wounds,

 I must not cry.

 

She was harsh, she yelled,

she pointed a crooked finger at me,

she accused me of being a mistake,

she assured me she would make him hate me,

that’s exactly what my father’s new wife said to me.

 

She treated me like trash,

she made the guarantee that her daughter would be loved, and not me.

Despite these gushing wounds,

I shall never cry.

 

I told him,

I hoped he would believe me,

thought he would defend me.

instead, he dejected me!

he called me selfish, jealous,

he accused this of being a plan to separate them,

he stabbed me,

each of his accusations stabbed me.

 

He would leave me all alone;

alone with my thoughts,

alone with my pain.

he took her to all the corners of Florida,

from Disney to the coastal beaches,

everywhere as I sat and bleed from the stabbed wounds.

 

Despite my aching wounds,

I moved on.

Despite the shadowy memories,

I am jubilant.

Despite all my suffering,

thanks to God, my mother, school and my friends,

I have forgiven my dad and his wife,

although the memories will never fade away.

Despite the experience, I have grown blessed and become enlightened.