Saturday, September 8, 2012

Pain Raidiating from my vagina from rape

I am in no way an artist. When I was 8 years old, I suffered abuse by my older brother and his friends during the summer months in Texas. This lasted through out the summer and into the next summer. I have lived my life suffering with this pain and I am damned if I will let it go on any-longer. My brother is still alive and if he sees this, oh well. When I was little he told me to never tell anyone or he would post a sign at the dairy queen that I suck _____ for .10 cents. NO ONE knows what I went through. Then, on his wedding day, he asked me to never mention it to his wife. Don't care anymore. If he finds out, or she finds out, so be it. My whole life has been horrid living with this secret. How I came about painting this. My daughter is very creative and was painting one day and had asked me if I would like to paint to. I thought about it and was watching her paint some flowers and thought I might be able to paint flowers to. I asked her what I should paint, and she said, "Mom, paint what you feel". That's when a wash of feelings hit me, and I am crying right now as I type this.... I did not want to paint flowers because it was not what I FELT. I felt pain and this is the ending result.

1 comment:

  1. Let it out, Granny. This is your blog where you can write whatever you deem fit.

    It's time to release that pain!

    ReplyDelete

Who doth speaketh?