Recent Books
To the Death (Seventeen)
Submitted by rebecca_v on Sun, 02/28/2010 - 9:21pmxlv.
I never imagined
that drowning
would taste so sweet.It made my tongue dance.
My mind was full of Daddy
as my lungs began to ache,
to burn.I held firm.
God does not let killers
into paradise.xlvi.
All was black,
and then a spotlight illuminated
two hands.
I reached for them,
and cherished their rough exterior.
They oozed warmth.I kissed these hands
memorized their imperfections.
They shone white
in the murky blackness.They whisper was muddled,
almost lost.Daddy whispered,
"Breathe Lydia."xlvii.
"Breathe Lydia!To the Death (Sixteen)
Submitted by rebecca_v on Fri, 02/26/2010 - 6:02pmxliii.
Mamma tells me
about God.
She says he'll save me,
because I am good.
She says he will let me into
His Heaven.I do not ask her
if Daddy will be there.
She's told me
of the punishment he faces.
She's told me of the flames of Hell.God does not let killers
into paradise.xliv.
"Today is the first day,
of the rest of your life."Unless of course,
it is the end.I could not visit
with the newsman today.
I knew what he would tell me.Locked away in my room,
I waited.
They eyes of those perfect, rigid dolls
watched me.To the Death (Fifteen)
Submitted by rebecca_v on Thu, 02/25/2010 - 9:13pmxl.
This photo album
is a treasure.
Hidden from Mamma,
who just wants to forget.Inside I touch Daddy's skin,
can feel his breath on my cheek
as he kisses me goodnight.A new picture every night.
Just one.I have done all the math.
He will be gone as I scan the very last
photograph.And then I'll have nothing left.
xli.
"Have you been watching the news
Lydia?"
The Lady smiled.Her perfume put me
in a trance."Lydia?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good. So you understand
what's happening to your Daddy?""Yes ma'am."
"How does that make you feel,
dear?"To the Death (Fourteen)
Submitted by rebecca_v on Wed, 02/24/2010 - 9:54pmxxxvii.
Proper lunch,
with all the crusts.
A table alone.I am so tired.
I don't blush anymore
when my stomach growls.I am not hungry,
despite its loud protests.I am not anything.
xxxviii.
The Lady envelops me
in her perfume.
She tells me about her life.I stay silent
when she questions me.And then she whispers,
"Lydia, do you love your Daddy?"I do not cry.
I do not shout.
She would not understand either.So I remain silent.
xxxix.
The newsman is full of surprises.His words become a blur,
but for that one spoken lineTo the Death (Thirteen)
Submitted by rebecca_v on Tue, 02/23/2010 - 6:29pmxxxiv.
I don't know who
this woman is.
She smells sweet.
She asks me so many questions.Mamma says
she'll make me better.
All better.But I don't say much
to the Lady.She doesn't know me
like Daddy knew me.
Daddy could make me all better.Daddy could save us all.
xxxv.
We never watch the news
anymore.
But I know.
I hear.Those kids, they whisper about
my Daddy.
About what he did.They say he is sick,
twisted,
disgusting.They say they are afraid.
And then they smile sweet-smiles
at me.
They play pretend.And I whisper about
To the Death (Eleven)
Submitted by rebecca_v on Mon, 02/22/2010 - 7:16pmxxix.
Silk and cotton,
ties and shirts.
A field of color on the bed.Mamma swam in them,
his clothes.
His scent.She soaked them with her tears
as I watched."Darcy."
I whispered.
"Did you cry too?"xxx.
We didn't speak
Mamma and I.
Our eyes were glued
to the television set,but our minds were drifting away.
Outside, I received
pitied looks, stares."It must be hard, Lydia."
whispered counselors.
"It must be hard to stop loving."But my heart beat for Daddy,
it did not pump blood for me;
I did not wish to live any longer.My heart kept my alive
To the Death (Twelve)
Submitted by rebecca_v on Mon, 02/22/2010 - 7:14pmxxxii.
The whispering began.
Always the soft spit-riddled sound
of whispers.Child eyes formed
child stares.I've never hated
like I hated them.
Their glorifying, heroic sympathy.They didn't see
how beautiful
Daddy was.xxxiii.
Mamma tried to teach me
hate.
She drilled me every night
on the "sins he committed".
She told me of his sick lust,
his arrogance,
his lack of control.But that is all Daddy was.
Sick
and in love.Sometimes you kiss and hug
evil.
You tell it your secrets.And so I buried Darcy-doll
in the ground.She stole my Daddy away.
To the Death (Ten)
Submitted by rebecca_v on Mon, 02/22/2010 - 4:01pmxxvi.
They took him away.
Just like on the TV.
They bound him in cuffs,
forced his rugged hands together.They stole Daddy,
my Daddy.And Mamma, she did cry
mascara-laced tears.I just held Darcy-doll
and wished the hurt away.xxvii.
Sometimes you don't see evil
until it walks for miles beside you
and you see the red gleaming
in its footsteps.Sometimes you love evil,
and it kisses you goodnight,
and you dream of evil
as it slips demons into your sleep.But Daddy,
was not
evil.xxviii.
I hated the television.
Those video cameras could see Daddy,To the Death (Eleven)
Submitted by rebecca_v on Mon, 02/22/2010 - 4:09pmxxix.
Silk and cotton,
ties and shirts.
A field of color on the bed.Mamma swam in them,
his clothes.
His scent.She soaked them with her tears
as I watched."Darcy."
I whispered.
"Did you cry too?"xxx.
We didn't speak
Mamma and I.
Our eyes were glued
to the television set,but our minds were drifting away.
Outside, I received
pitied looks, stares."It must be hard, Lydia."
whispered counselors.
"It must be hard to stop loving."But my heart beat for Daddy,
it did not pump blood for me;
I did not wish to live any longer.My heart kept my alive
