April is National Poetry Month; it is also Sexual Assault and Awareness Month. I was reminded of the latter while reading a post by fellow blogger Kurt Brindley.

I wrote this poem (some years ago) after hearing one too many gut wrenching stories of sexual assault, rape and molestation. It has happened to women [and men] I know personally and you know what — One is one too many!

 Till Justice Comes

by Janna Hill

 

I cut the stained satin, the sheets where you laid

The mattress beneath them, I sliced & engraved

But despite all my cutting you won’t go away

 

I stabbed at the pillows till fine downy flew

I stabbed and I jabbed – each aim meant for you

While white lifeless feathers fell without clue

 

At the semen and slobber – I stabbed all the more

I sliced at the blood and prayed it would pour

Pour from your body wherever you are

 

When I was done, had cut them to shreds

It wasn’t enough, you didn’t feel dead

So I sat them on fire and burned every thread

 

I raked up the ashes and ground them with stone

To a fine wispy powder I thought were your bones

Each minute grain- evil seeds you had sown

 

Then I placed the damned ashes deep in a hole

Inside a corked bottle I hoped held your soul

And just for today I had control

 

I’ve nothing but anger to ward off the numb

To a million vile deaths I watch you succumb

My imagined revenge… till justice comes