Behind Closed Curtains

The room was held in a thick darkness; its only light from a single lamp post glowing blue behind the pulled curtains.  I was lying back in a big leather chair.  His dark image hovered above me in a rhythmic motion while the darkness  suffocated me and my body stuck to the chair.  The mixture of his cologne, his skin, and and the chill of late autumn filled my nose.  At fourteen I knew there was no use in crying, no use in screaming; no one would listen (no one ever had).  So all I could do was lay there, held in the secrecy of evening and let him do what he wanted with me.  All held in the hope that he would finally stop and start being my father…

wildfire
still burns deeply
in the barren ground

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Transformation

late autumn rain
a final scent of summer
rushing through red leaves
a moment of lightness
reliving my broken dreams

 

sunrise
rippling in the bay
her heavy heart

 

blood moon
I see myself
more clearly-
his grip on me
finally gone

 

early morning
my mind in a haze
of wildflowers

 

butterfly-
poppy petals dance
in afternoon breeze

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dreams and Silver Coins

all those dreams-
instead I count
falling stars

 

hawk feather
the weight of her words
trailing mountain peaks

 

shooting star
our conversation
takes a turn..

 

western sun the way it soothes me warm concrete

 

all my wishes
the sparkle
of silver coins

 

crescent moon
tracing the outline
of my broken dreams

 

scrambling for the last drop of crumbs lost lover

 

dragonfly
I spiral
into a dream