Majesta is four.
She is watching the curtains blow
in the wind off the street
Something crashes outside her door
Bugs move friendly across her bed
She is quiet with bruises
She is obedient to abuse
She is a small white star
fearing two angry moons
(photo from khaleejtimes)
A member of the English Defence League (EDL) in Birmingham on Saturday 8th April (Photograph: Rangzeb Hussain)
THUGS. That is what we are dealing with.
THUGS. Our world is being brutalized by the violence and ignorance of narrow-minded THUGS.
Today, in my home town, I experienced the hatred and intimidation of THUGS.
View original post 1,041 more words
You were not there to watch when he
‘allegedly assaulted’ me
You point out facts that you distort.
My pants were tight. My skirt was short.
My perfume sucked the rapist in.
Expensive jewelry is a sin.
I had a drink; I smoked a joint.
“Those were advertisements.” You point
to my behavior, dress, and speech
as causes of this horrid breach
of all my rights. Your helping me
is nothing but a travesty.
How dare you heap me in disgrace?
He pulled a knife. He slashed my face.
He tore my body, beat me lame,
and now you won’t release his name?
Protect his rights, but shove your blame.
I will not wear your mask of shame.
At the door I look up
half a flight where she looms,
inviting me shockingly
to give her a kiss.
Astonished, I bound
up the steps for this thing
I long for, the velvety cheek
imprinted in baby time.
The kiss barely covers
a sniff when her hand
smashes into my head.
I fly back and down
half a flight, then a full one
down stairs to the basement,
bruised only, not broken
so no one will know.
No one ever knows.
reubenwoolley 