Poem: That Way

I should wipe my finger prints off of the knife,
but I don’t care.
I look at the lifeless body that lay before me,
unable to shed a single tear.
When the police come
I don’t know what I’m going to say,
Because a father is not supposed to treat his little girl
that way.
Each time I tried to sandpaper his smell,
his touch from my body in the shower.
Every week I would dread his footsteps
outside my door in the wee hours.
Many nights I would wake up in a cold sweat
wishing that my living nightmare would go away;
But the pain of each thrust, and the memory of bloody sheets
is a video cassette stuck on instant replay.
I hate him with every bone in my body,
I detest acting like every thing is fine.
But after I saw him fondling my baby sister
I only had salvation on my mind.
No more footsteps to fear outside my door,
my life begins today.
A father is not supposed to treat his daughter
that way.

By Sean Munnings
The Raga~Lover

Copyright © 2006 Sean R. Munnings, all rights reserved.