rage and recovery

god knows what you did and he will ruin you

short stubby nails against my skin,

soft, warm words in my mind,

promises of another tomorrow

without pain and without fear

and a secret of foolishness and oppression.

that small part of your mind

the part that tells you to look before you cross the road

and to always lock your doors

tells you that you are flirting with something worse than danger

but children know of no true fear

and children glean only truth from

those so much older and wiser.

so while he never touches your skin

he touches something deeper inside you,

something golden and bright

that is still stained with dirty fingerprints

of exploitation and praise,

something that was not his to take

nor his to violate

but children know no boundaries

and children love with no hesitation

or knowledge of the natural order of the world.

and it's not until those children 

see the wonders and decimation 

the world has to offer

that they realize those dirty hands

were never supposed to be so deeply embedded

in every part of their mind and soul

and that the love they thought they had

was nothing more than the monstrous assaults

of a man that God had yet to strike down.