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