Belt marks on my soul, still fresh and painful.
as if they had just happened, how could he be so baneful?
Memories of hot tears of a small girl, a loner,
Huddled, forsaken, crying in the corner.
seeing his eyes incandescent with rage,
Having him go on a rampage.
That it messed me up, so I am told.
The hits and screams of a grown man versus a 5 year old.
I was screaming so loud, didn't the neighbors hear me?
Couldn't they have helped me against his unfair beating?
His blind rage was insatiable,
That memory for me irreplaceable.
Now, as i write this well into my teenage years,
It’s all i can do to fight back the tears.