Child Abuse


Child is a little biological curio
That is presented to the window shopper

And through the darkest hour, the negro nights
Of the Gingerbread house

The child is fattened for the cull.
Like a calf staring at her owner

Knowing veal is a delicacy to the distorted mind.
And one act is all it takes to scar a life

One wound, one tattoo, one engraving
Of a little heart that was supposed to love

And not be loved. Man is a grotesque creature
The greed of a deranged heart.

And when touch becomes feel, when love
Becomes fascination, when man becomes a warlock

The child is helpless. Scars with scabs are the hardest
To heal. The child will linger in silence

As a reservoir of lost dreams, searching for a water puddle
To settle her paper boat on. A little dream of one day

Being able to tell her lover that she has loved before.
To a monster, a leviathan in a ram’s garment

And all she wants from the lover is to be gentle
Like a little wave that crashes into her

Erasing the scabs on her wounds. Healing the heart works.
Gentle she says, gentle, just like a serene water patch

Bearing a paper boat. She says tenderness is like spring,
It ushers in a tranquil calm, an extended horizon

Of love. There will always be a child in everyone.
Even in a child who lost her childhood.

And she will only ask for paper boats. Love as tender
As the cotton fibers that are pushed into a pillow.

Tenderness is her redemption from what was lost.
Now she sees pig tails growing back, and a voice

Inside telling her “you’re one of the lucky ones”.
And she was, he was like a rugged harbor for lost souls

And when her hull anchored, he was as tender
As a new born. A little boy who took her in

As a little girl and gave her the childhood she never had.
A patchwork doll who became a Barbie

In Ken’s arms. And she was not going to let
A memory hold her hostage, letting go of the grip of the past.

She was the lucky one. One who rowed her paper boat
To the currents of a tender wholesome love

Until everything was forgotten. And making love
Was all about new memories now, little postcards

Sent down a chute of sentimentality. Every paper boat
Was a new destination – Idyllic, perfect.

A little girl who finally tread on the grounds
Of Disneyland, wearing adult shoes.

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