And when he looks at my body all smug
Grabs at the cloth I wear
Tears it away effortlessly
When he laughs at me
Tells me to stop complaining
To take it like a big girl
Because big girls don't cry
They don't complain
They sit quietly and enjoy it
When my cheeks cover in tears
And my body shakes
He smiles and offers a half-hearted laugh
"It's ok sweetheart" he'll say
His words will sting like whisky
Like a bullet to the heart
"It's ok sweetheart" he'll say again
Later you'll realize why you never liked that nickname
It was because of him and his stone cold
Calibrated voice
When he touches me softly
Deliberately but cold
When there is comfort in place of discomfort
When something is wrong
But there are no words offered in your vocabulary
To tell someone what he's done to you
When I begged him to stop
As tears rolled down my cheeks
And he flipped me over anyway
There is nothing to say
Nothing to explain
Silence becomes your reconning
Becomes your home.
YOU ARE READING
Where The Grass Grows
PoésieA poetry collection about life & death, love, loss, & grief. Written through the lens of a 15-17-year-old girl. These poems are a collection of my story. Take care of them. They mean the world to me.
