| Creative
Corner: Poetry by Ritual Abuse Survivors |
Ritual Abuse,
|
|---|---|
 |
|
The heart still pumps out blood of the newly dead body,
A girl lies there, the knife still grasped in her hand.
The deep red blood pours out of the wound -- like a river, it's water
flowing out of a lake.
A dripping sound is heard,
Drip,
Drip,
Drip.
It is the blood of the knife falling onto the floor.
A small smile is upon her face,
She knew that it was over;
All those years of torment and torture,
Yet she had won.
He would never hurt her again.Footsteps are heard outside the door,
Getting louder and louder;
A knock,
Then a voice, "Daddy's home."
The knob slowly turns and a man appears,
Holding a beer in one hand, and a condom in the other he comes in.
He sees her lying on the floor,
Dropping the items onto the ground, the beer bottle shatters,
He runs over to her.
"Oh, my little girl," he cries, "Why did you do this?"
Then he finds the note, pierced through the knife in her scribbled handwriting --
"YOU CAN NEVER HURT ME AGAIN," is all it says.
He starts to sob, weeping uncontrollably, crying for the loss of his only child.
Sorry for the pain he had caused her,
How did this get so out of control?
When did he start abusing the woman he loved most?
Not even a woman, a little girl, still in school.
He never meant to hurt her,
But it happened.
Yes, she had won,
He knew now that he was in the wrong.
How could he have not seen her tears,
Heard her cries-begging for mercy?Yes, she had won,
But she had to give up her life to do it.
So young, still in school- only eight years old.
JL
|
[ Previous Poem ] [ Poetry Table of Contents ] [ Next Poem ]
|
Last updated: Sunday, 25-May-2008 00:14:50 PDT