Wordless

She didn’t panic.
Maybe this time she wouldn’t mind, even though
she didn’t know how to breathe
with him crushing her.

At 5, there’s more mystery
than comprehension. But she’d watched
heavy, unwieldy words slide
into meaning beneath their pictures.
One day this story would make sense too.

At 5, she didn’t know
exactly how and where Dad entered
her body.

Her half-formed ideas went wordless.

No one understood when she’d asked
why she only saw this room, this bed
when there were so many other houses,
other people, other beds.
Why did her eyes see
only one film instead of them all?

She stopped asking things like that,
but she still liked to imagine
the other houses, other children, other Dads.

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2 thoughts on “Wordless

  1. “At 5, she didn’t know exactly how and where Dad entered her body.” – I have never been able to put this into words. It puzzled me for a long time that I could not figure it out, but then, of course, I got older. Thank you.

    1. I am very sorry that you share this experience, Kelly, although I find healing in your words, knowing that someone else understands it. Thank you so much for writing.

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