PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Age 14:It's my fourteenth birthday and I'm

smiling at the the gifts I saw.

My chest has recently started growing

and I had to wear a bra.

I danced around the living room

and went to hug my mother.

While my Step dad hugged from behind

gaining strange looks from my brother.

I wiggled out of their arms

and ran away from their embrace.

I think I was disturbed by that hug,

though you couldn't tell by my face.

This was one of the few happy times,

where Mom and "Dad" didn't yell all night.

And though my brother didn't like him

he didn't intentionally cause a fight.

But the next day it started again.

And I was left sweeping the mess with a broom.

That was also the first night that "Daddy"

decided that he would invade my room....

Age 16: My dear brother has long since left,

gone away to school.

But I am sure he knew what was happening

how could he have been so cruel?

But I can't dwell on that right now,

Mother is starting to get really sick.

I hope she can fight this cancer,

and not leave me alone to battle with this prick.

I think about was I can escape this hellhole

as I hear the familiar chomping of his gum

and I wish once again...

that for one night he would not come!

But alas he is here again saying,

"It's best not to fight tonight, mon cherie."

Age 17:It's next year and my body is changing

reaching a grown woman's proportions.

I'm not even married yet

and I've already had two abortions.

The evil man keeps coming to me

but these days its just sad.

I don't even put up a fight anymore

which just makes him more mad.

I think he's becoming afraid of me,

that he's started to notice my glare.

Spewing that he'd handle of that expression

Like I would actually care...

My brother has finally come home,

and he offers me a cold beer.

Telling me that, "Mom isn't even your real one.

So why are you still here."

I was so shocked by this revalation

that sent my mind reeling.

And I felt for the first time in six months

If rage is truly a feeling.

But I set my face to be emotionless

like the statues at Stone Henge.

And decided to keep up the charade

while I plotted my revenge....

18th birthday: Mother is worse than ever,

she can't even get out of bed.

And lately her eyes are lifeless

she might as well be dead.

I stayed in her room all the time

and watched her peaceful sleep.

and heard "Daddy dearest" sneak up behind me

though he tried not to make a peep.

I jumped up from the chair

and drew my pistol from my waist.

I said, "Got you, you son of a bitch."

Then I shot him twice in the face.

My mother whimpered from the bed, "All over sex?"

Which only proved to me that she knew.

And it may shock you what came next...

Because I shot her too......

And then I disappeared