Glazed Window Pane

Rock,
Back and forth.
Music sways,
Eyes close,
Breathing initiated..

Sigh.
Mouth open,
Can’t breathe,
Intoxicating poison;
Drugged up real good.

Drink:
Swallow pain,
Fear and guilt.
Comfortably numb,
Feel nothing now..

Fun.
Have fun with
this
Can’t see,
Can’t feel…

Wait a minute..
I feel it..
The pulsating hatred,
Injecting your venom
Deep within my delicate faerie form..

As frail cries,
Feeble screams,
Ring out inside this coffin,
This confined trap.

Suffocate my memory
And clouds roll in
Eyes roll back,
As time slows,
Close to stand still point.

Watch vaguely as misted windows
Reflect the events around me.
Drugs have taken me over,
As those spoken
  words
Are forever etched
Into my lacerated skull.

Wake up..
Slowly rising.
Lifted to safety.
My clothes torn,
Red and blue lights
Flashing continuously,
Through the misted glass panel..

They’re gone now..
No hope of finding them..
Can’t escape the truth..

I sit and stare
As the tear drops rain down
On this window pane
And these grey sky eyes,
No longer glazed  with illegal drugs,
Glimmer with hidden scars.

Nothing will give me back
My innocence.


Put on my smile,
Touch it up with lip gloss.
Open my eyes,
Allow the bright strength
To shine through the unshed tears.
Mascara helps to bring out the good
In all the negativity I’ve been through.

My daughter runs through the door
“Mommy! Mommy! Guess what?”

Fake smile fades
As true joy falls into place,

“What is it Willow?”

“I talked to Daddy, and he said he loved me.”

Sit down.
Don’t show it.
Don’t let it.

“That’s great sweetie! Can you give mommy a moment? Go and watch T.V”

The nine year old runs happily away,
As I watch her disappear,
I return my gaze to the window,
Where the storm still rages on,
And the hail still pours down..

And my mind goes to my husband,
Who told my daughter how much he cares..

Then, flashbacks wander in,
Clouds roll by.
And her possible blood father’s bodies
Touch me again.
All three of their filthy,
lust filled forms..

Close eyes.
Deep breaths.
I feel them in me again..

I shake my head,
As tears roll down pale cheeks,
And wonder if I should ever tell her the truth.

What would you do??

Should I tell her,
that that man isn’t her real father?
Maybe then she’d know,
Why he hardly ever tells her
He loves her..

But then,
What would you say,
If you found out,
You’re Daddy,
Was a rapist?