Book I: Through Darkness and Thorns
Chapter
I: Wrapped Around Rage
ALONE
All alone.
“Why?” she cried
In anger.
She died too late,
No one saved her.
Milk money,
None for her.
She loved,
She hated.
Always “why?”
Too much, too late.
Red
Her blood soaked panties;
White
Hot rage she fought
Always “why?”
Too much, too late.
Alone
She died too late.
Alone
Between love and hate.
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RAT WHISKERS AND COW TEARS
SILENT NO LONGER
A page from the Poetry and Quilt Square Books
of The Child Abuse Survivor Monument
