Where were you when I was sent to my room
for not turning off a light?
Where were you when I was blistered
for not calling him dad?
Where were you when I was thrown against a door,
and blood gushed down my back and face?
Where were you when I was put under a pillow
and expected to breathe without air?
Where were you when my finger was snapped
like a pencil in a vice?
Where were you when I was yelled at
and hit constantly?
I never blinked,
I never cried, except at night,
I never moved from my spot,
I never heard a "Stop it."
Or a "That's enough."
All I heard was the footsteps of my childhood
Walking out the door.