Haunting Poems

Haunted Saturdays And The Other Six Days of The Week

What do you know when you are four and five years old
What do you know about sexual abuse
Nothing
There is nothing to understand

There are no words
No adjectives, no nouns, no verbs
Just actions and doings
Their actions, their doings
Doings to me

My body
And their body
Her body, Her face
Her ugly contorted orgasmic face
And my body
Her actions, Her doings
against my body
against my eyes
against my hands,
my little five year old hands

What is there to see
Haunts ceaselessly
and lives relentlessly
for all eternity

Tears and flashbacks
Immersed in every day and
All of daily living
That which will never cease
Until Death Us Do Part

My friend The Grim Reaper
Who Will One Day
Pour his healing balm of death
Upon these tears
Upon these haunting pictures
cemented and imprisoned in my mind - holding it all together

And on that day
They will become free
Free ghosts in the secret mists of time and
This dark and sinister secret game she played
will be no more locked in my mind

Like the sunshine
Like the blue sky
Like the Cadbury's Chocolate Buttons and
The rustle of green leaves and luscious grass and
Nature thriving all around

What do you know when you are four and five years old
What do you know about sexual abuse
Nothing
There is nothing to understand