broken glass, watch your toes.
inside you go.
darkness and smoke so
thick you can taste it.
daddy, don't go!
he's gone.
back to the darkness.
back to the smoke.
suffocating.
the couch is too small,
he is too close.
he pulls on my shirt,
my favorite shirt.
not anymore.
he pulls on my jeans.
he pulls, i push.
pleading,
guttural and penetrating.
hands,
jagged and sharp.
hands,
moving quickly.
hands
binding wrists,
holding the backs of knees.
hands
that are not mine.
don't look.
don't feel.
float away.
where do i float?
the ceiling.
flowers.
no, fireworks.
no, dandelions.
YOU ARE READING
Flowers, Fireworks, Dandelions
Poesía"Flowers, Fireworks, Dandelions" is a piece that I wrote about my first experience with sexual assault. I was sexually assaulted by a family member at nine years old. The assaults lasted from the time I was nine to seventeen years old. I wrote this...
