The blood stains
on the standard bed sheets
where he effortlessly tied me
wrist and ankle
to beat me
while he
beat off
were saturated
in my blood
and my tears
and my dignity
was long gone
the first time,
so many times ago.
Once I was
slick with my vital fluids
and my tears had dried up,
he had his red lubrication
and shoved himself
inside of me -
I was burdened
by all of his
four inches.
I cried for my mother
but he reached around
and slapped my mouth,
causing more blood
to spray the wall.
She lay in her bed
not fifty feet away
tears rolling down
while the television
was on mute
so she could listen,
getting her cheap thrills
in as well.
I was only
twelve
years
old.