Digging up the bones

And… older scratchings that were much easier to decide not to send as the first words my Birth Mother heard from her “baby boy”…


I began with a scream

a wail

thrust into this new life

pushed out of the comfort

and the warmth

and the security

in to a world that screamed back at me

and for a time

a very short time

I had the comfort of her arms

around me.

The arms that held me

and let me know

that it would be all right

because she was there

and my screams


soothed in the heartbeat

the voice

and the scent so familiar

and it started to get better

and the comfort was coming back

wrapped up in the nurturing arms


of my mother.


Then those arms

and everything that was peace inside of me

were torn away

no comfort no understanding why

nothing  made sense anymore

and the screams came back

got louder inside of me

and that gnawing pain

was something that I learned to hide

so shut away so that even I couldn’t find it

didn’t know it was there

at such an early age.


They said I was such a quiet child

seldom cried, seldom complained

so everything must be

okay, right?


in a way that so few can understand

the arms of my mother

the arms of the womb that

I became in


handed around to so many

such a precious child

look how good he is

so quiet

adjusting so well

give him no history and call him theirs,

pay the money, sign the papers

and hand him over.


He’ll be fine…


Taught how to completely fucking


before I even knew what it was

that I didn’t feel

kept away in a secret fucked up place

that I didn’t even know existed

for these thirty one years

Nothing was right

passed around and cooed over

patiently waiting for that comfort to come back.

My first taste

the time I discovered how to be who I am

the year that all of the actions in my life became what I became

and even as I grew

thinking so logically

in order not to feel

Past the “Baby Boy Mathern”

The “Baby Boy Stenerson”

of screams (an identity even then of no-one)

past the knowledge

of nothing but loss and anger

I came into this family

of a man, a woman, a little girl

but they didn’t know, though they tried

and the screams inside grew louder

they didn’t know

that to raise a child

it takes so much more than discipline

they didn’t know how to nurture

this new life in theirs

Or maybe it was me

in a subconscious solitude

in a subconscious anguish

that would never let me open

that could never let them

or anyone

become my friend

become someone who I could talk to about


but I don’t think so.

I’ve never had

the words of wisdom

that a child so needs as it grows.

words that I could listen to

and remember

when things just didn’t seem right

inside of me


and things never seemed right.


Never words

of how to believe in myself

of how to love my Self

never words of strength

or words of how to know

that feelings of hurt

and pain

and confusion

and anger

were okay.

were normal.

So feeling alone

was all I ever felt

and alone

was all I ever knew

and the years went by

but even with the sorrow

even with the constant pain

by then so much a part of me

I learned

I taught myself

I dealt with everything fucked up inside


I tried to make sense of it all

and I began to become me


I taught myself warmth

I taught myself love

and what I think it means.


I made myself

into someone I thought I could love and

I made myself

a king

in my own heart

in my own soul

in my own life

and even though at times I have forgotten

even though at times I have let myself down

and had my doubts


who I have the strength

who I have the power

who I have the love

and who I have so much passion

to be

and no one can ever take that


I have this knowing

that has come from no one except myself

because I am the only person

I have ever




Casey ~ 1/99

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