Jaimié Dunham

The smell of old Volkswagen lingers even to this day,
my head still rests on the black lacquered steering wheel
my eyes still raining tears onto the steel ring of the horn.
around my throat tiny half-moons shine bright red,
Mom told me the end of the world would come
when the moon was red.

Don't ever do that again roaring in my ears,
even though he had barely whispered it.
Hands that caressed my breasts
but then held my neck,
rage flared in eyes that once spoke only love.
What did I do to deserve this,

No,
Why did he feel a right to do this to me?
I couldn't go home. Mom would kill
me if she found out this had happened.
my throat scorched inside and out,
sobs raked the tender lining of my soul,
his hand had ripped the flesh of my body.

My gentle arms reach back now
to soothe
my cowering pride
huddled in the far back room
My voice calling softly,
Turn the ignition key,
Drive away,
Run away,
Don't go back