Closed Doors

The door shut firmly on my face,
I pressed my head against the door,
I’d hear moans and groans,
All I could do was laugh,
A boy of 6 I was, for I only could imagine.
Games were played I was told.
Games that left my sister in tears,
Games that emptied my brother of his teenage lust.
I had wished upon a star many times for those games to stop,
I pounded on the door with my little fist, to the rhythm on the other side.
My pleas were met with idle threats,
Did he not know these days were to become my nightmares?
Flashing his blood red pocket knife across my face,
Losing my childhood, to his lust.
Leaving me to fear love and longing,
To believe that I cannot love without hurt.
Leaving me now with a door that I cannot close.

by Joseph Tanner

Comments (2)

unidentifible but surely a poem enjoyable. Keep Writing!
A gutwrenching poem and I fear many can relate to your pain. Thank you for sharing this. Chrissie