• A man walks through door,
    Grabs a drink.
    Drunk, and drinking more.

    The man joins us at the table,
    But just before he takes his seat,
    He hits my mama.
    She curls over in defeat.

    We eat silently,
    Clean up the same way.

    Later that night, I lie in my bed.
    A man storms in, kisses me violently.
    As he rips of my clothes,
    I try to think I’m glad it’s me he chose.
    That I'm glad it's me and not her.

    Beaten.
    Broken.
    Damned.

    I reach under my bed,
    Grab the knife that rests there,
    Stab the man until he’s dead.

    Standing up,
    Looking down
    At the man I killed.

    The man who abused me.
    The man who hit my mama.
    The man who used to be my daddy.