Dedicated to a friend who fought to be heard
Warning: Graphic Poem, Descriptions of Abuse May Cause Triggers
The bastard is dead
I can hardly believe it
I have waited so long
For this moment
Standing on a platform,
Watching the departure
Of a steel coffin
Silver like an Amtrak
Headed for hell.
I look at his folded hands
Hands that closed over perjured prayers
Hands that gripped my neck, squeezing
Until my scream was silenced
Hands that slipped a golden band
On Momma’s slender finger
Hands that held me on one knee
Hands that reached under my dress
Are now hands crisscrossed with blue veins
A small bruise has congealed over a puncture
Though carefully brushed with powder
I see the secret bruise
After years of denial,
I can hardly believe the truth
The bastard is dead
His cold skin soothes
Fevered memories.
His blue-gray eyes,
Once the color of a thundering sky
Now are sewn tightly shut
Black threads knotted against his cheek
Hold back the lightning in his stare
Eyes that crinkled when he laughed
Eyes that fixed on me, so intently
Eyes that promised Momma forever…
In the morning Momma untangled her body
From his sweaty embrace, kissing his sunken cheek
Momma opened the curtains at daybreak
And smiled as his eyes blinked open
Those blue-gray eyes made her heart flutter
Momma stood against the raging storm,
Smoking a cigarette and doing crosswords
The storm beat against the windows
So Momma closed the paisley curtains
Torrents of rain fell from crescent clouds
Whipping the curtains in a wailing wind
In the morning calm following the storm
Momma set breakfast on the table
Forcing a smile, she encouraged me to eat
I choked on every bite,
Tasting his sour odor in my mouth.
Cancer has freed me from
His bruising kiss
In the final moments
His lips were cracked and dry
After years of crude jokes,
Of country ballads sung in raspy alto
Of loathed affections
Sweetie, baby, angel…
He lips did not move
Momma joined a battalion
of silent witnesses who cry
as his body disintegrates
No tears were shed for me
They stand shoulder to shoulder
One face so like another
Forming a wall of resilient silence
Ensuring the family shame
Will never be spoken of
Careful smiles on blank faces
I cannot tell the living
From the dead.
I was tortured every second
He remained alive,
From bed, his hand reached towards me
To pull my ponytail from the binder
Slowly stroking my loosened hair,
Sweetie, angel, baby…
His eyes lingered on my shaking body
He fumbles with the hem of my skirt
I slapped his hand away
He began to sing a country ballad
Crooning as his hands pulled my hair
Yanking hard until I gasped
Yanking until his chest rattled
The machines wildly beeped
I leaned close,
To force him to look into my eyes
I stood amidst the storm,
Summoning memory
The darkness of the hospital
Became the darkness of the bedroom
When I fought to breathe
He pushed my face into the pillow
I cursed the shining moon
For looking away as a star
Was so brutally ripped from the sky.
I hope he felt violated by cancer
That his cells were penetrated without consent
And his dreams, were inflicted with nightmares
I hope assurances were spoken
With indifferent politeness
As the needle was plunged through
His fragile vein, bruising his hand
I hope he felt small and afraid
As his face lay against the pillow,
Submitting to a sterile catheter
I hope his mind was awake
As cancer squeezed his wrinkled neck
He struggled for air
As cancer hummed a country ballad
In his ear, pulling him close
He shook with pain
As cancer demanded silence
He bled from within hidden places
This disease was much gentler
Than he had ever been to me.
I hope he pressed
The call light desperately
That his pleas went unanswered
Just as my cry was ignored
I hope he pressed the morphine pump
Again and again and again
I hope that the yearning for escape,
Only brought him more pain
I hope that in his last days
He felt bitter heartache
When he reached for Momma,
She retreated in crosswords,
No longer able to help
She asked for me to sit by his side
I tell my story as he begs me to stop
I pretend I cannot hear his feeble whimper.
I tell him that I craved recognition
In the first kind words offered
Beautiful, special, smart…
I believed the sweetened lies
Forever, I promise, You’re all I need…
I craved gentleness from hands so eager
To caress my bruised body
It would have been better
To take without pretense
I was nothing but a piece of ass
To the men who took advantage
And left as the curtains were parted
In the morning light
I would imagine the feeling of love
When the storm had calmed,
Leaving only a few drops of rain on my skin
That quickly dried, leaving no traces
A rainbow arched overhead just for me
Special, baby, forever…
Meant something, if only for a moment.
I watch as he dies in utter humiliation
His limp penis is crusted with piss
Drool slides down his crumbling face
His legs are useless, weighted down
By feet swollen to the size of boulders
In his last days, his voice was
A hollow echo from a soulless vessel
I watched as he felt the sting
Of the needle stabbing into
His parched skin, searching for a vein
His flesh remained unyielding
I watched as he could not drink
And died from a thirst unmet
I watched as he swallowed bitter memories
In our moments alone,
I forced him to remember.
The train has arrived
A mighty roar announces its arrival
Sultry steam is curled around the hospital bed
A grim conductor ushers him inward
Afraid, he will struggle
He will gasp for breath
The whistle is blown,
Time to depart
The machine emits a single whir
There will be no farewell
I shrug, then walk to the cafeteria
A mocha latte, please
I return to his hospital room
For the flowers by his bed
they belong to me–
a petal for every tear shed.
I stand over his casket
And thank God
That my prayer was answered
The bastard is dead
A key to the pain he inflicted,
A charm on a golden chain,
Is dropped into the earth
I can lock the door
He will never intrude again.
Lynn Mari, ©2007.
Child Sexual Abuse: Domestic Violence and Incest Resource Center
http://www.dvirc.org.au/HelpHub/ChildSexualAbuse.htm
National Runaway Switchboard
http://www.1800runaway.org/
Sexual Abuse of Children/Child Trauma Academy
http://www.childtrauma.org/CTAMATERIALS/sexual_abuse.asp
Stop It Now: Prevent Child Sexual Abuse
http://www.stopitnow.com/mn/
When Trust Is Lost: Healing For Victims Of Sexual Abuse
http://rbc.org/bible_study/discovery_series/booklet/31136.aspx
