Bad

BAD

This tiny little word, capable of destruction like an atomic bomb,

Slips through the lips of a mother
Prounced in the sermon of a holy man
Given by the hands of a father

It takes over, where once was velvety warmth of innocence.... It lodges in and grows poisonous tenticals of war criminals

Where the little boy trusted the impulses of his body and its movements

When the little girl knew the truth of her feelings and that they were as natural as her fingers and toes

The damage hides in the comfortable folds of the normal life, of the family habits, in the worship of the church in the blind acceptance of social norm... Invisible to all

Accepted as though it is ok to steal part of a child's soul

But we don't get to call it ABUSE _ it doesn't quite QUALIFY_ there is too much agreement on it not being called out

So the child doesn't get to have an advocate, the permission to name the hurt nor to know that it isn't her fault

In time.... she/he will agree with the louder voices of her adults and turn against himself and see bad and wrong where there wasn't any before