Warning: This Poem Contains Abusive Violent Triggers. Read at your own risk.
You raped my soul
Caring not
About the carnage
Left behind you.
As your blows
Rained down
Upon me.
Using whatever
At hand.
Whether
It’s physical
Or verbal jabs.
Even now
Decades later
Am haunted
In my dreams.
Visions of booted foot kicking
Or kitchen chair used
As a club
Upon my body.
Laying
In fetal position.
Never mind
Those times
Your hands pushed me
Down stairs.
Filling my mind's eye
With terror
Reliving my fifteenth summer.
You walked away
As I punish myself.
Not strong enough
To stop you
Baby brother
And protect mom.
May you rot
Worse spot
Than I’ve live in.
Therisa © 2012
Author’s note: Except for clean up of form, nothing has changed in this poem. Am having trouble
reading this,without being triggered, again.
reading this,without being triggered, again.
1 comment:
Therisa, it is horrible what you endured. And I wonder at your mother, who must have been too beaten down to stop it from happening, or at least try to get help from authorities. I am so sorry. I am grateful that you made it and now live peacefully with your three kitties. No one can do that to you now.
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