The Innocence Thief

by: Tara Cameron


Memories flood her mind…
She wasn’t always this way.
She used to sing, and she wasn’t afraid of anyone hearing her.
She used to speak, and she had no thoughts of who was judging her.
Her radiance could light up a room, and she liked to make people laugh.
She had a boldness that her innocence allowed her to possess…

Memories flood my mind…
As I sit here staring across the room.
There you are again… there’s so much inside I need to say.
You thief… you stole something of mine, and I want it back.
Pain floods my soul where innocence once stood.
If only I could give you just an ounce of the years you gave me…

Your spit echoed as it splashed my face when you screamed…
it still echoes.
The smell of your breathe still lingers… I can still feel its heat, so close to my cheek as I try to turn away.
My ears still ring, and they cringe with pain at noise.

Stop screaming at me…
Let go of my wrists.
Leave my clothes alone.
I said no.
These tears are real, and you still carry on, unwaivered.

My face still burns where you slapped me.
I could hear its ring in my ears…it still rings.
The imprint of your hands have never gone away.

My back still hurts where you slammed it into a wall.
More spit… more spit… I can’t breathe, get out of my face.

Your tormenting words still echo in my ears.
Your lies still taunt my now insecure heart.

Your unfaithfulness was piercing to my soul and the finger that wore your ring.
How many were there… we’ll never really know.

Your drugs took over my life, and I never even saw them.
How powerful they must be, to not even touch someone and take total control.
Your selfishness tore into my soul like a hungry lion pouncing on his prey.

Memories flood my mind…
As I look around my life and watch the world spin.
It never stops spinning.
It keeps going, even when I lay in bed early in the mornings, when it’s still dark outside, and cry…
…flashbacks of those days pouring in like Niagara Falls… and I cry…
It’s still there… the pain, blood still pours fresh from the wounds.

Some days I think it’s gone. But I realize on those dark mornings…
I realize that it’s still there.
It’s not that I haven’t forgiven.
But you can’t shut a door & throw away the key when there are still people inside.
Repressed memories are just a fairytale. You can’t ever really keep them down.

She’s still in there.
I hear her pounding on the door sometimes.
You can’t keep her locked up anymore.
Give me back the key that you stole.

Tell her you were wrong.
Tell her she never deserved it.
Tell her that you acknowledge her pain…show her.
Tell her that you’re sorry.

Take accountability for what you did… just once…
…just once, stop blaming everyone else for all you’ve done.
Face your own demons, feel the guilt of the pain you’ve inflicted…
…and feel just a speck of her pain.
Put away your excuses.

Let me hear her bold voice again.
Let me see her radiance… she has so much to share.
She hides behind her pen and paper… a recluse from the verbal world.
Let her voice fill a room with laughter once again…
Let the insecurities, fears… anxieties… diminish.
Let her out of that dusty attic, to feel the sun on her face once again.

Give me back my little innocent girl… thief.