Intertwined Mishaps

She holds her teddy bear close to her face
If she don't look at him, she feels less of a disgrace
She shakes as the door creeps open
It's just her mama, she keeps hopin'
She knows it's him by the sound of his walk
Hand over her mouth, "be a good girl don't talk
If you love daddy you'll let him do as he pleases"
She tries to shut away is grunts and his wheezes
Silent tears make their way down her her cheek
If she knows what's best for her, she won't try to shriek
She's afraid is she tells, mama won't love her anymore
That's what he says as he walks over to the door
He has the nerve to say he loves her and to have a good night
Once he's gone she still holds that same old teddy bear tight
Prayin' to the Lord that it won't happen again
She knows it will she just doesn't know when
She curses the day that she ever was born
She's not even five and she's already torn

Make some noise
Because
Silence can be DEAFENING
I need to know that I can still hear
If I chose to listen
I've been silent all too long
Now's the time to raise my voice
Speak my mind
Be heard
Before it's too late
Too late for change for myself, for this place, this society
Break the molds of beauty and conventionalism
Not to just think outside of the box
But to shake that box until it SHATTERS
To truly open our minds
To see the face of God in the beauty that is Earth
And EVERYONE that graces its presence
Please
I plead
Fellow homo sapiens
Make some noise
Before we're all deaf

I wish I could be three again. Where throwing rocks into the murky water of the Kankakee River was prime entertainment and candy bubbles tasted good to a sugar hungry child's mouth. I wish I could return to the days where I collected baby turtles from the rock covered road to save them from getting hit by the occasional pickup truck or tractor. Or when we pretended leprochauns lived in the run down shack and let our imaginations get the best of us. When my biggest worries were a sore throat or falling off of my hand-me-down bicycle. I miss the bonfires, cuddled on top of my grandma's lap, my flame licked face laying softly on her bosom as she rocked me humming in a beautiful tone. I miss climbing trees and scabby knees and the bunk bed where my sister and I talked for hours on end until one of us eventually nodded off. I miss the Berenstein Bears, the soothing tone of my mother's voice reading to me and promising to check up on me before going to sleep. I miss crawling into my parent's bed, to find comfort and protection awaiting me. But the thing I miss most of all is the innocence every child has. The hunger for knowledge but a simple ignorance of the happenings of the world. No bills, no worries about oil or war, or rising food prices, or finding shelter. All that my little mind was concerned about was keeping active, while now, I'm reluctant to move from the comfort of my sofa. I wish I could just crawl into the bottom bunk, surround myself with my stuffed animals, and drift away to the sound of my grandma's humming.

For all that you did
Pretending to be such a good person
When really
You were evil
For calloused hands brushing innocent flesh
For pretending to care
For blaming them
For accusing them
I know you were just a coward
Trying to fill a perverse obsession
Greedy eyes and grubby fingers
But now
I can finally say
I forgive you
I forgive all that you did
But
I will NEVER forget

My father’s hands
Scarred and cut
Calloused
Rough to the touch
But he was never rough with them
On his right hand
His middle finger is gone
Not completely gone
Just to the second joint
And a smooth seal of skin covers where it used to be
I fail to notice it now
But it seems to be the first thing people notice about him
My father’s hands
Held me on his lap
As we watched endless Antiques Roadshows
My father’s hands
Know the strength of a gun
Know the feel of a hard days work
Know the exhaustion of a factory
My father’s hands
Rough to the touch
But he was never rough with them