This is my story. I give myself to you. It’s still Tuesday. Here is your TMI.
I Am The Boy
By Jean Roy
I am the boy who was pronounced dead after three hours of labor, weighing a half of a pound to a nearly dying fifteen year old mother.
I am the boy that lived in a one bed room apartment infested with rats and roaches and the only place I had to lay my head at night was a small mattress in the kitchen with all the burners to the stove on, to keep me warm.
I am the boy who watched his mother get beaten by the countless men she thought were father figure material.
I am the boy who was lied to about his father.
I am the boy who at the age of six was raped on Christmas day 1996 by the two perverts that lived downstairs from me.
I am the boy who was verbally and physically abused by my mothers boyfriend at the age of seven.
I am the boy who suffered severe blood loss from a tumor that was beaten in by the man my mother called “Her other half”
I am the boy that had his fingers burned on the stove, and locked in basement closets so that my cousins could go to the movies, while I stayed behind, drowning in my own tears and covered in my own piss because of fear.
I am the boy who endured a custody battle between my mother and my grandmother because my mother slammed me against the floor causing a nail to stay stuck inside my body, she hid the abuse because she did not want social services to take me away from her.
I am the boy who was disowned by his biological father because he didn’t have room in his life for me.
I am the boy who at the age of thirteen was molested by his uncle and his mothers boyfriends brother more than 45 times.
I am the boy that has witnessed his best friend shoot himself in the head right in front of him.
I am the boy who watched his aunt die thin and weak from Aids.
I am the boy who has cut to try and control the pain.
I am the boy who starved himself, worked out too much and binged on repeat for three years because he wanted to be thin and cute just like how all the other people in the world were.
I am the boy who has tried to commit suicide more times that I can remember.
I am the boy who is broken.
Although I am not shiny and new, like all the other boys out there, I too have a story.
I am the boy that wants to be heard.
Now will you listen?
All Rights Reserved
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- desolatedichter said: Jean… I’m at a loss of words. You’re a strong soul, a very, very strong one. And I know for a fact I could not had survived through the torment and torture you did. You’re an inspiration to me, that’s a fact. Wow. I’m here if you need anything.
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- eponinesyndrome said: you are so strong. stay strong forever.
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