Wednesday, February 20, 2013


He sat me down
In a clearing filled
With broken shells
And broken bones.

He swept the debris
Aside and placed me
Gently as though
I was a babe.

He passed before me,
Shells breaking underfoot,
As he told me how
He came to reside here.

I sat watching him,
Motionless except for
My hands working at
The rope binding my wrists.

With a piece of shell,
I bit into the rope,
Hoping he was lost
In the story of him.

Then he stopped,
He stopped pacing,
He stopped talking
And he stared at me.

I dropped the shell,
I held my breath,<
I prayed to who?
To all who could hear my prayer.

I knew it was too late,
I knew nothing could or
Would save me now,
But I prayed, nevertheless.

As he came closer,
I screamed through the gag,
A muted cry and
Closed my eyes.

Then nothing,
No rough hands,
No lethal blade cutting skin
And flesh to find bone.


I opened my eye,
Then the other,
I was alone
On my bed.

The nightmare receding
Into the darkness.
A nightmare that was
Once my reality.


Buddah Moskowitz said...

Wow. This is a powerful poem, filled with many great details. I really get the feeling of helplessness for the victim. What does it mean to you? Excellent poem, young lady.

Brian Miller said...

wow...a nightmare that was once a reality...what a point your closure brings this too...dang...glad you made it out....