Cycle

I didn’t know the dead could time travel.

 

He makes me choke on the snot of my tears.

Trying to scream through the wadded up cloth in my mouth

 

And yet, every time I close my eyes

 

I see my blood dripping; creating small red butterflies were it lands.

He smells like alcohol, he is stronger; his hands are bigger than my thighs

As he pries them apart

 

It’s been over a year

 

There’s a ripping pain in my tummy, a pain between my legs.

Why won’t mommy stop him?

She pushes my head under the water again.

Chanting, as the wooden cross sways above my head.

Her nails gorge in my scalp 

It’s a new day, the night is young.

But after she finishes dressing me up

Leading me to my room

I know nothing has changed

 

He’s dead; it’s been over a year. Someone new has replaced him