Unapologetic

She heard the cries through paper walls, The shuffled feet, the midnight calls. The rusted bed, the muffled whimpers, The bruises born from unseen fingers. She saw the blood on cotton white, The way her child flinched at night. The way her smile was stitched in pain, But still, she chose to look away. She knew. She folded laundry. Cooked the meat. Prayed at church and took her seat. She kissed his lips, ignored the stain, The house reeked sweetly of her shame. "Don't tell lies," she softly hissed, "He's your father," then dismissed. "You're just confused, you dream too much" As if truth died beneath his touch. She knew. But silence is a softer grave When the monster helps you both behave. When survival means pretending blind And guilt is love, redefined. So the daughter learned to zip her mouth, To clean the sheets, to bleed without. To take the name that wasn't hers, While mother polished silver words. She knew. And now the gi...

A once poor little boy, now a grown man- abandonment issues stitched into his skin, trust issues rooted deep, especially with women. A once poor little boy, now a grown man- who struggled with fidelity all his life, never quite able to offer mutual respect to the women he loved. Or tried to love. Or pretended to love just to feel something. This poor little boy- as a child, had a mother who was an alcoholic. Everyday, she left him and his siblings in the care of a babysitter. That babysitter- was the poor little boy's abuser. A woman. Trusted. Smiling. Dangerous. His life was beginning to be paved- with silence, with confusion.  Poor Little Boy In primary school, the topic of sex came up. Poor little boy, confused by the word, asked innocently, "What is that?" Laughter erupted. A classmate, snickering, blurted out: "When a penis goes into a girl's private place." The teacher overheard. She moved to silence it- but before she could, poor little ...