As the cow jumped over the moon
and the dish eloped with the spoon
the monster smirked under her bed
he the tall strong knight
the false protector
she the delicate damsel
the little girl in the
pink tissue paper nightdress
The shadow of his form in the doorway
his intention blocking the soft yellow
of the nightlight
her innocence broken like the mirror hanging
shattered on the pink painted wall
her girlhood shoved into tainted womanhood
The king killed the princess-like dreams
with one pushing urge
the flower’s delicate bloom crushed, splattered with disgrace
the sandcastle destroyed with adult realism
the little pearl marred with a stamp of shame
imprinted on her heart and her vagina.
** I wrote this poem after hearing that one of my friends, that I had known for several years, was a victim of years of sexual abuse by a person that should have loved and protected her. She is not alone in her experience. Many of my friends and myself have been victims to the same type of crime in varying degrees by a variety of different perpetrators. This poem should mot be viewed as a hopeless illustration, but as something to awaken the outsider to something that happens more often than many are aware. It is also a taste of the fear that such an event brings with it in the moment and long after.
© Kristen N. Rea and WildFire Dreams, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Kristen N. Rea and WildFire Dreams with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.