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.


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