I wrote this poem while still dealing with the aftermath of a very traumatic event that I had finally decided to confront. I've grown a lot since then, but this is for anyone who still is, or has yet to confront any form of sexual abuse.
It will get better.
Sundays at Auntie's
After church and after Grace
we walked right next door to Auntie’s
They stayed by Daddy’s
It was just us kids.
All
a lon e
in That House.
We were supposed to just eat
brought our Sunday Plates
filled with gravy and rice
candied yams and
greens
But some of us were
sinister.
Took
advantage
of the absence.
Supposed to forget about it now
It’s been too long
too late
headed back to Maywood Court
I remind me,
it’ll be Monday soon