His hands
as tight as a boy scouts knots
holding me down
even as I cry stop
I feel them
even now
waking drenched in sweat
ghost pains taking over my body
and how is it
after all these years
I still walk with this fear
A black stain
Across my soul
Almost as vivid
As the red mark my cheek bore
Born from his hand in a fit of rage
When he found out quiet wasn't in my forte
I wish
this memory would just go.
But then I wonder
Where would it find it's new home
I wish no one ever would have to feel this pain
Apologizing for what they had no choice in
Shouldering the blame.