I like when Papa wakes up early.
I like when Papa cooks me breakfast.
I like when Papa takes me to school.
I like when Papa picks me up on time.
I like when we all have lunch and dinner together.
I like Papa.
I like when Papa says I'm pretty.
I like when Papa says Mama's pretty.
I like when Papa hugs Mama.
I like when Papa hugs me.
I
Like
Papa.
I like when Papa doesn't tell Miss Stephanie to sleep in his bed.
I like when Papa tells Mama he's sorry for hitting her.
I like when he doesn't hit me.
I. Like. Papa.
I like when Papa doesn't lock me up.
I like when Papa doesn't tell me my breasts are too big for my age.
I like when Papa doesn't try to touch them.
I like when Papa cleans me up after he's done filming himself hurting me.
I like when Papa gives me cocaine to numb the pain.
I like Papa...and cocaine.
I.
Like
Papa.
I like when Papa cried at Mama's funeral.
I like Papa when he begs for mercy.
I like the sound of his flesh kissing the knife when I stab.
I like when Papa bleeds for me like I did for him.
I.
Like.
Papa.
I like him dead.
YOU ARE READING
The Scraps of A Song: An Anthology.
PoetryPoetry spanning topics from love to pain, to addiction, to borderline insanity, to romanticism..in a disorder so strange it becomes an order all its own... The Pieces of Her, The Scraps of A Song.
