Poetry

flesh and blood

She sat on a plain white bed sheet,

with patterns of flowers and hearts.

Her back was facing the door

and jumped to a sudden kick at wood door.

She was quick to jump under the bed and

prayed that he would not find her.

Ever so slightly she pulled the bed sheet so

she could blend in with the darkness.

As he forcefully pushed the door open

and stumbled across the room looking

and seeking spilling drops of alcohol

as he walked around.

He was a stranger,

she was no longer

his baby girl,

the girl he swore

to never put his hands on.

His own flesh and blood.

She quietly cried,

hoping for this madness to stop.

She suddenly woke up to see him gone,

she got up and was quickly thrown on the floor

and beaten multiple times with a leather belt.

She was crawled up into a ball and stared at

the mirror covered in blood.

Her father lashing on her skin

she slowly doubted her affection towards him,

her own father.

Her own flesh and blood.