Dragged As he dragged me by my hair As my blood splattered on the kitchen table As his anger subsided And though from outside
From the bedroom to the stairs
With every scream of every step
As the roots pulled from my head
As his fist and my face collide
I wondered how soon before I would die
With every explosion of pain a growing desire
Ripped and bruised skin dressed
Presents and flowers around me
As guilt attempts to make better
I hear the call of something different
Something my mother , father, brother and sister all yearn for
In the face of losing all that I love
I turn from my pain and believe in maybe this time
Christopher Wellbelove
6 September 2007
next poem>
