Sanders Sides Oneshots

My Papa's Waltz

No ship

Emile is the son

This is not my poetry.

The original poem is by Theodore Roethke

TW: Abuse, alcohol, being drunk, just a bunch of Emile's Dad being shitty.

Emile's POV

The whiskey on your breath

Could make a small boy dizzy;

The door slammed as father walked in
I could smell the alcohol on his breath

But I hung on like death:

Such waltzing was not easy.

I had to grab the railing of the stairs as I walked down.
Ready for my next beating

We romped until the pans

Slid from the kitchen shelf;

My mother's countenance

Could not unfrown itself.

Mother stood by at the table
trying not to make a sound

The hand that held my wrist

Was battered on one knuckle;

As he held my wrist I saw that his knuckles were bruised
He must've got in another fight today

At every step you missed

My right ear scraped a buckle.

I tried to dodge every stroke of the belt
But I was not quick enough to dodge the blows
And I was left with a few bruises, but no broken bones

You beat time on my head

With a palm caked hard by dirt,

He slammed his hand on my head
Trying to knock me senseless.

Then waltzed me off to bed

Still clinging to your shirt.

He picked me up and walked me back up the stairs,
Laying me on my mattress.

I didn't want him to leave just yet,
as the night was settling in.
But instead of returning my embrace,
He slapped my hands away.

I bet he can't wait for the next time that he gets to knock me senseless.