It is a secret what happened
once and more than once
when I was small
much smaller than my cousin
who taught me how to feel
helpless and afraid
for doing what I knew
was wrong
only because he made me promise
not to tell, NEVER
to tell. He would hiss at me
“Or Else”
and twist my skinny arm
behind my back
to show he could and would
make me suffer worse.
He did not explain how
he had the power
or what worse might be
just left me
to imagine—
how in the night dark
mom and dad would leave
Forever.
I try to keep the secret
buried deep
but it leaks out in bad dreams
I cannot shake
because they grip me
the way a not-quite-ripe banana
holds tight its peel.
But already I can smell
how delicious it will be
to strip off fear
when I get big enough
to tell.
once and more than once
when I was small
much smaller than my cousin
who taught me how to feel
helpless and afraid
for doing what I knew
was wrong
only because he made me promise
not to tell, NEVER
to tell. He would hiss at me
“Or Else”
and twist my skinny arm
behind my back
to show he could and would
make me suffer worse.
He did not explain how
he had the power
or what worse might be
just left me
to imagine—
how in the night dark
mom and dad would leave
Forever.
I try to keep the secret
buried deep
but it leaks out in bad dreams
I cannot shake
because they grip me
the way a not-quite-ripe banana
holds tight its peel.
But already I can smell
how delicious it will be
to strip off fear
when I get big enough
to tell.
