The girl was only eleven,
when she first thought

                            "What if I went?"

When even escaping
to magic-filled hardcovers
could not ease her descent

School bullies were not all
that pulled her
towards the yawning void,
on eggshells she walked
around him,

being careful not to flip
his switch
He'll twitch -
see red
It filled her with dread
Better to stay tight lipped -

                Better to be...

                                     His pet

By age ten her father had left

Gone to another land,

Fortune upon his lips

She cried for days,

She felt alone...

Bereft

●

By the Blaze
The Reticent Writer/
Gina Fornataro Mosher
©️2022

When all has ended.
When all has gone.
Burn that *****!

You know the one.

Her evil exposed.
Her evil undone.
All memory faded.
By the blaze is the rub.

Her smoke for the three.
Her ash for them see?
Their trauma is smudge.
By the blaze is the rub.

From the one that was used.
From the youngest, are you.
The one unprotected.
The one you have bruised.

A faction of vipers.
Of sickness, insane.
You would not imagine the evil they lay.
Through smiles and grooming their base reflects through.

The youngest now older
Will say this for you.

Goodbye to the den.
Goodbye to its mirrors.
Goodbye says the youngest.
Goodbye to its air.

As the fire is started.
In more than the thing.
Her spirit unchained,
the trauma now clean.

No more says the youngest.
No more is her name.
No chaff in her spirit is left for this thing.

By the blaze is the rub.
The rub is now clean.













#Writings-From-Within

The girl was only seven,
When he came into the picture
                      
                       Bribery by way of sweets

"Now I have her,"
He must have thought,
This was no mere caper

She wonders,
now,
if he meant it like that.
But at seven, sugar meant YES

Silly 5 year old me, such a great pity,
For him to think he could fill the deep hole carefully,
By pleasing forbidden bodies, intuition was screaming for him to flee,
No danger sign warned against transformation into something he never ever meant to be.

When lights of our stars collide,
Only for it to provide some lust and a bit of pride.
All of the storm and misery we set aside,
Touching others just caused more times that we lied.
All heavy chests that yearn for love suffer from this viral infection although hardspun masks try to hide.

The saviour that quiet boy longed for decades and years,
Was all along his future mirror stepping into being twenty-something after a billion tears.
The one that would give him all the love he had ever feared,
Was his own bleeding heart caged in reseda - at least now for me, it cheers.

*****,
Is not a word
That I've heard in a while —
I used to hear it all the time
As a child;
I was spunky,
A spunkster,
Spunkalicious!
And all these terms of endearment
Made me feel warm inside.
It was only later, much later,
When I was more mature
That I discovered what the term really meant…
Which made me rethink all those childhood memories in a new light —

“you’re so mature for your age”
i was 8
i don’t think i should be mature at 8
i shouldn’t even know what “mature” means
i should’ve been a kid but he robbed me

“YOU NEED TO ACT YOUR AGE”
i am!! i finally am!!!
i’m 14 and messed up completely
this is what it’s like now to be a teen

“act like an adult”
yet i’m treated like a child
no wonder you think im wild

your calling me crazed?
babe im freaking insane!!
i’m 16 and everytime that you call
i bang my head against the wall
i wanna KICK,
SCREAM,
and CRY!!
but that’s not how i should behave
it’s not how i was raised
because im “so mature for my age”