My neighbor kids like to play soccer
I just suck at it
I don't believe you
I'm worried your husband or someone
Doing harm to you
He would never, he gentle, and calm
Someone hurt you and you need to report it
I can't report it
We all know once I report it
It ends up in the back of a police station
Ignored for years
While I sit their wondering
When the bomb will finally just go off
Waiting to see the jury of my peers
Will believe a women
who wore a skirt a few inches to short
Who had a few cocktails to many at a bar
After having a fight about laundry
With my husband
And you know damn well the tequila I drank
And the outfit I wore, will make it my fault
And whoever did this to me whatever he drank
That will be his excuse and I will go down
Ima be the girl who was being a slut
Just wanting to get attention that all
Is me reporting really gonna convince them
I wasn't flirting at the bar?
If I give them my story and even my underwear will it prove to them or to my husband
That I didn't cheat on him and
make up some story
Just to save my own ass?
Will be reporting really save me?
YOU ARE READING
The Fear of Drowning Deep
PoetryShe was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful something to be admired from a distance not up close. - A little talent is a good thing to have if you ever want to be a writer. But the only real requirement is the ability to remember every...
