The Struggle

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Coolness of concrete against my skin,

the musty basement smell choking me out.

Shower water and tears mixing,

fetal position hand over my head,

tighter to the corner

no way to escape, nothing to grab.

The grit of clawing at the walls rubs my skin raw.

Desperate to escape I struggle,

he drags me from the corner by my leg.

Fist of hair I rise to my feet under the shower head.

Hands to head I scream, his marionette I become.

The slave to my mother’s blind fear,

Only 5 years to understand why

he would shove himself in my mouth

Maybe to stifle my pained cries.

Maybe to exude his dominance.

My gasp for breath

brings me back to now

in the shower an adult

Robbed of the clean feeling, stolen normalcy.

Pondering how to stop the deep scars of emotions of a child.

Overwhelming pain, blinding me to the blessings.

The struggle to survive never stops.