For every push,
for every jibe,
for every spit
upon my childhood,
my conditioning,
my inability to conform,
I kept walking onwards
believing I was better,
never being allowed
to acknowledge
how I’d been broken,
how I’d carry
these bullies like bites
to forever sting
beneath the skin.
All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly
We always carry those childhood hurts. (K)
Awww–I just want to comfort little Damien. Kerfe is right that we carry those childhood hurts, but hopefully, grow enough scar tissue so that the sores do not bother us very much. For what it’s worth, I bet you’re a million times cooler than those bullies. 😉
Ah, such a pleasure to read this 🤗🤗
All true. 🙂
I hope you’ve processed it a bit, and realised that being bullied is often the price you pay for being better, cleverer, more creative, more beautiful. It shouldn’t be that way.
There’s certainly been progression Sarah, thanks and I’ll take your comment and treasure it 🤗
I too was subjected to bullying (at school), soft little thing that I was. One day I decided I had had enough and said “No.” A fight was arranged outside the grounds after school in which I was mercilessly beaten. However, as I had stuck up for myself, they never bothered me again. A bullies sort of honour code?
That was over fifty years ago and I am sure that odd kind of respect wouldn’t happen today, for we have changed as people…
Anna :o]
Thank you Anna for coming by. I really appreciate it and am happy to hear you share your story too. I am sorry that you were bullied too but find your tale very courageous. As a child it is never easy to stand up against those who choose bullying as their power. Sending you big hugs, damien