She’s had 3 kids by the age of 18
Raped by her daddy 'cause her mum expired
A mound in the ground while he steals her child
Takes her to bars, twirls her from man to man
Too scared to moan, too beaten to throw
herself from the best of the beasts.
The beast with the best excuses,
keeps her around with threats and abuses
his power of protection as he takes what he chooses,
knowing one day he’ll discard the left overs.
And all she can pray for is of the children he fathers
none of them look like her.
He’s kind when it makes him the hero
And a martyr when she begs for respite
There’s blood on his moustache from biting her neck
when she tried to break free
from another assault in the night.
She’s tried to brush off the bourbon
to cleans her skin of his sweat,
but it’s a minute too soon to be freeing
herself from his calloused grip.
It’s not the right date to be bleeding
But red runs through sheets to the bedsprings
Nightgown between legs she scampers
through the house, as he stomps in pursuit
She knows when she’s caught there’ll be bruises
and scratches and maybe some breaking
of the bones he’d helped create
when the best of the beasts laid waiting,
for a moment of weakness, an excuse too delicious
to take hold once again of its man.
In the morning she wakes to her crying
Not sure if its blood or the tears
that keeps her pillow from drying,
as she trembles with knees to her chest.
She treasures these mornings of silence
when he takes off to kill something wild.
On the bathroom the window behind her
looks out across the backyard.
Where three young juneberries bloom.
And she cries just a little more,
palm pressed to the glass,
when she thinks of who’s buried beneath.