I hear his footsteps coming towards me and I know…
The words he is saying
The rules he is laying down
The fears I am betraying
…it’s not right
I see him in the dark before me and I know…
She does not make a sound
As his fist takes its first pound
And knocks me to the ground
…it’s not right
I smell him as he lowers towards me and I know…
This time won’t be because of drink
Inside myself I start to slink
I must go where I cannot think
…it’s not right
I feel his arms around me and I know…
How many cracks are in the ceiling above
Not to ever resist or push becomes shove
Only open my mouth for the depth of his love
…it’s not right
I taste more than tears on me and I know…
All the lies I’ll contrive
The pleasure he derives
In taunting “Why you still alive?”
…it’s not right
My senses overload when he leaves and I know…
When a fourteen-year-old is no longer sad
Cannot be so bothered to be mad
When ordered to coo “Goodnight Dad”
…it’s not right