I shall write a poem tonight
Because my mind is clear
And that is when the messages come
It's like the process of birth
Or so I imagine
Then pushing
Then an idea comes
But then I see these things in my mind
All of them
I see
Visions of awfulness
And Beauty
Of little boys
And dragons
Of happy times
And awful times
And brutal times
Well, no
Imagined brutal times
A sense of brutal times
A fear of brutal times

I fear the memories
As bad as I want them
Need them
Need to know
Want to know
Want to feel
Need to feel
Need to scream out
Need to scream for help
Need to tell him to stop....stop....daddy, stop.

Need to be there
To see his face
To see his eyes
To know it's him.

But if I never see his eyes
Never look
Never look up
Never know

I can't look up
Can't know
'Cause if it's him

I'm healing now, and I wasn't sure I would.