The Wicked Step Dad
she is how ever free now, and I wash it was me.

The Wicked Step Dad
Please don’t run away he will kill you
I said it too fast I think you missed half
you’re fumbling with the window latch
my hands are sweating I can’t catch my breath
Last week he broke the mug I liked,
the one with the blue birds on it.
Now I’m standing here spitting out this stuff
and you’re just staring like I’m crazy.
Please don’t run away he will kill you
I don’t even know why I’m saying it
you push the window up and climb out
I hear your feet hit the gravel and I don’t move
I can hear him in the kitchen now
slamming cabinets like always
I hope you’re already gone far enough
I hope I didn’t just frighten you for nothing.
The door to the hall slams open,
I don’t turn around to look.
I just stay by the empty window.
watching the gravel path where you took
that first step out.
I hear your voice carry back through the rain
now you are free you escaped him
but I don’t answer, can’t explain
i am holding my breath for you.
He’s got his hand on my shoulder now
his grip tight as a vice
I keep my eyes on the road ahead
where your figure fades from sight
Now you are free you escaped him
I however am punished for the crime
yet you are safe I am glad
He shoves me against the wall
the paint chips off onto my shirt.
I don’t cry, I’m too busy looking
at the spot where you disappeared.
You let her go, he says through gritted teeth
that’s what you get for being weak
I just stare at the floorboards
at the crack where the light still leaks.
From the window you left open
the rain blows in cold on my face,
and I can almost hear your footsteps
getting farther away from this place.
My knees give out I sink to the ground
he walks off muttering something mean
but I’m not listening fixed that too I’m smiling
because I know you’re finally clean
All this mess, all this noise,
all the fear that sat in this room
you’re out there breathing fresh air
I sit here in this gloom.
but it’s okay, I’d do it again
even if this is where I stay
because now you are free you escaped him
and that’s worth every price I pay

About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️


Comments (2)
This is a poem that shows many sides to an issue that will I hate to say will plague us till we are at the Lord's side. Good job.
"...that’s what you get for being weak." This line is so powerful. My biological father had flaws. I wonder how stepdad behave with step kids.