She Is

Hop scotch Darling

beaming rays of

earsplitting happiness

she would

cause a ripple




favorite color a spicy cinnamon

aiming to be a vet



a professional blower of bubbles

gum popping

20 a second of rapid questions

fits of giggles

holahooping reining Princess

a curious sparkling spirit

she is

1, 2, 3

sat on his lap as she swung her feet

a trustworthy man he was

a, b, c

harmless little game

well respected man he was

1, 2, 3

inching up her knee

three children, a wife, a home, a good husband he was

a, b, c

past the crinkly underlyings of her dress

his son about to be married what a proud father he was

1, 2, 3

giving a squirm she says it hurts

every jum3a prayer there he was

a, b, c

a pat to her head as she sniffels and sucks on the candy he’d given to quiet her

‘This will be our little secret’

pinch to the cheek as he heads


A God fearing man he was


7abeeba why all these bruises on your thighs?

She was an expert, a prodigy at how well she hid herself, even after all these years, not a word, not a whimper did she tell of what had happened to her,

and it wasn’t shame, or fear, or pain that kept her mute, but she’d rather be cocooned, undisturbed, a mystery that had no explanation, a tragedy that had no implication, a lively performance she demonstrated,

a calm yet charming personality she exploited, so she dated, she experienced, and although inside she flinched at the simple touch, felt tainted, unworthy she bravely numbed herself, rock stone enriched her heart became, as that simple little game he had played

 overplayed, rewound, and


played and played,

daily reminders, revivings, the smell of him still imprinted in her brain, the feel of him scalded to her crestfallen frame, so she continues to contain, unwilling to make peace, unready to make known, still that little girl weaving a tale of enchantment to pacify her mothers concerns, no longer a sparkling spirit, but a world weary imploding soul

a dying out star

a young woman of scars


Queen of Regret

she is