deepundergroundpoetry.com

Back Against the Door

My back against the door
My terror stuck in my throat
My twelve year old breasts heaving
As he spoke sweetly of their beauty
It wasn’t the first time he visited my bedroom

Your eightieth birthday cake stared at us
As I relived that memory today
My almost sixty year old breasts heaving
While you wanted details of unspeakable things

I almost didn’t hear you say she caught him in the hallway
But I did hear the click when I locked my door
After I threw you out

By the way
The cake I made you
Made it to the trash
From across the room in one dunk
Written by Her
Published
Author's Note
Copyright @ Her 2025. All rights reserved.

This afternoon. I smelled chloroform the entire time. I asked my father to visit me. I never got a chance to ask him the question I wanted to.
I walked away from my family last summer. I should have left it that way.
And I just had my breasts reduced. It ended up being a traumatizing experience. Ironic? I think not. Nothing is a coincidence.

I used to tell myself there’s a lesson with every trial. I’m a fucking scholar of life now and I’m finally tapped out.
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