child abuse

thrown under the bus

nowadays all she does is whine about her bodily pains,

but when you were left alone, 

she stayed drunk, prowling the bars

days on end, 

oblivious to the emotional wreckage left

on your chest, like a hot iron

melted through the tender heart of a 10 year old,

the open wound to the 


cauterized shut

too soon,

without even leaving any open flesh

for the pain to be released,

seared closed with the shame, pain, and false pride of generations,

sealed in for years like a safety box of magnets,

pulling you towards anything and everything self-destructive

in a desperate search for some morsel of hope,

that the next christmas dinner might be more than 

knocking on the doors of neighbors, being lucky enough to be

asked in to share a holiday meal, 

and an attempt to be noticed for something other than the burden

you were to her deep and fervent longing for 

the escape, into smoke filled rooms,

that reeked with the heavy, putrid smell of week-old frying grease,

cigarettes, and hairspray, that became one of your main

reasons for going to live with your dad--

other than the day she up and left for california,

a 50 dollar bill to substitute her mac and cheese, dribbled with 

one and a half inches of ashes off a pall mall,

only to be less than reluctantly welcomed by him,

and a stepbrother who most always was 

notably more worthy of better dirtbikes, nicer clothes 

and a much more frequent pat on the back 

for a job well done, 

that most often wasn't.


a dollar for him and quarter for you, along with the bottom bunk,

that smelled like pee from all the years he wet the bed,

only ever good enough for sloppy seconds--

and then there was brownie,

poor broken down swayback, with skin infections,

baldspots and degenertive bone disease,

in light of your brother's black stallion stud,

as if the 6 inch scar on the back of your leg wasn't enough 

from your father's drunken rage with a 4 inch hunting knife,

and the glass from the window that left it's souvenir the night he threw you

across the room, all before the age of 14.



i may have shot that horse between the eyes too.





11:37 PM 6/26/2013





Author's Notes/Comments: 

Just a poem about a kid.



Icy Cold Day


I am the child you don’t want to see.

It seems time has erased me from your memory

On that icy cold day when my world fell apart,

Why oh why does it seem you shunned me from your heart?

You neglected to see past that angry young man,

And the child you knew…left alone…up and ran.

He remembers the times that were spent so carefree,

And the times that you gave all to us so freely.

All the shame that you bear from your past makes you mean,

And you wallow in what you call "living so clean".

So I’ve waited inside this dark cell for a day

When a kind soul would hear of what I have to say,

But of all of the people that said that "I care",

Out of all of the people that said "I’ll be there",

You were never a person that I would have thought,

Would believe all the lies and forget what you taught.

Did you not always say to be brave and stand tall?

Did you not always preach to "get up when you fall"?

Did you not tell me "don’t ever show them your pain"?

Did you not say that time will bring sunshine to rain?

All those things that you said I have tried to pursue,

But confusion sets in when I’m talking to you.

Cause your ways hold the secrets of why you let go

Of that child that caused you all that "heartache and woe".

You are locked in a world,

That has little to do,

With how easy pain is when God carries you through,

It’s as if you allowed one to take it away,

And you had nothing left but yourself and your way,

You have been so engulfed by the things in your life,

And left God far behind

As you bathe in your strife,

But inside my world here His Love shines brightly through

All the promises broken by others …..and you,

And He’s carried me every inch of the way,

And He’ll carry me through this here "icy cold day",

Til His Love comes to melt all the hatred away,

From the hearts of the people that wronged me that day.

No resentment lives here in this cell…be aware,

There’s no bitterness here, so come in….if you dare….

Cause you’ll yet have to face all your own lies within,

He can’t wash them away unless you see

The sin you committed

The first time you listened to lies

Tthat caused you to turn blind

To your own soul’s demise.

Have no fear from the child you left far behind,

Cause that angry young man’s only there in your mind.

Though alone he has come through the storm, found His way

With feet firmly in place, grounded strong here today,

But one dream he still holds very close to his heart.

It’s a dream that young boy wanted badly to start.

And the dream was that people like you that bend ear,

To the gossip and lies that feed hatred and fear,

Will be kind to the children that stand in your way,

Cause they probably have more profound things to say.

Please believe me, they wouldn’t be hanging around

Some adult that chose lies as their favorite sound.





And of all of the people,

That said

"I’ll be there…."

…..never once, did I think …

….you would ever run scared.



2002 …©

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about the increasing crime rate of American juveniles, and the society hat raises the parents who neglect them.

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counting footsteps

You count his footsteps slowly,
Until he stumbles into the wall.
Why don't he let you be?
He gets up, and continues down the hall.

One, two, three, four
Hes ready for more.
Five, six, seven, eight.
Here he comes,hes late.
Nine, ten,
You start to hate men.
Eleven, twelve
He gives you hell.

Hes at the door now.
You cower away.
How could he do this? How!
In your bed he lays.
That's when you start
To block out whats about to happen.
Here comes the worst part:
You fight, but he wins.

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You forcefully push me to the ground.
I fall and try not to make a sound.
My face meets pavement.
I feel broken, body's bent.
Frozen and numb inside.
Your foot and my abdomen collide.
Doubled over in pure agony.
Pain so harsh, I cant see.
You step on my spine, I hear the crunch.
I scream in pain, as you throw me a punch.
I lay motionless as you walk away,
Spit in my face and say "have a shitty day."

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Daddy's Battlefield



Electrical impulses

Sparks of metal

Rain down on me


You are the pestilence






Flashes of light

Polaroid’s of my soul

My innocence

My childhood

Turned into a brothel


Pedophile mine

I can not escape you

I am your blood


White tiles

Freeze my flesh


Cut my insides


Daddys little girl

Became daddys battlefield

Get your hands the fuck off me

Voice the fuck out of my mind


Hit me hug me

Rape me love me

At least please drug me

My nightmares don’t end in with the morning


I was always alone

Even though you’ve never left

Cancer hidden away inside me

Killing even when I can’t see you


Child fuck toy

Once a fractured girl

Now warrior woman


Look at me once again and I will fuck you up

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I can not scream

When the monsters reach for me

Nor am I allowed to yell

As I slip into my self

I can not even speak



So I cry


I cry from all the pain that’s inside

As I try to break free

From the demons that rape my mind

Nothing kills anguish in me


So I bleed


Tiny streams

Trickle down my skin

Hostage dreams

Purge my soul from sin


So I die


I die from the pain that’s inside

As I try to break free

From the men who ripped my insides

But nothing killed the spirit inside of me

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