I have had people ask if i was okay after reading this, this is just a poem, an idea, a story nothing else but i do thank you all for wondering if i was okay.

He comes home from a night out,
drunk as a skunk and full of lust,
he calls out and finds no answer,
a back hand slap soon finds my face.
A tear slowly rolls down my cheek,
as my clothes are ripped from my body,
a force of hand and nothing can stop him.
The pain, the hatred, the screams.
He comes to his climax,
he pushes me over, and goes again.
Standing over me,
forcing himself into me.
Calling out how good it is.
The door creaks and his mate walks in,
I scream out and he shoves it in.
he laughs and grins.
He pushes me off him,
let’s his mate go on
he comes to climax,
and he too walks away, leaving me there,
feeling used, naked, damaged.
I pull my clothes on and cry,
I walk out the door and run,
run from the monster.
Who is my Father


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