silent night, holy night (trigger warning- graphic rape and death and truth)

there are many monsters finding homes in shadows

setting up shop in back alleys and underground tunnels

they get together and draw a picture of a predator

detailing his pointy teeth, goatee, gold medallions

getting lost in the forest of chest hair

the hunched shoulders

the van of abduction

white tinted windows with logos of ice cream

“children you need to be careful and don’t go with strangers”

“you can get hurt, they can do bad things!”

“stranger danger”

the stories of pedophiles peddling candy to the innocent

or the box of puppies used to entice little girls and boys away

we forget about the children who go home and the evil emerges

the hunter in a stand waiting with bated breath for game

the villain in the walls and the fear and hatred of life

the turning of heads and denial of responsibility by others

“sorry, kiddo, i gotta work then i have a yoga class, busy schedule”

there is no hideaway

no treehouse

no neighbor with rosy cheeks

the good boys and girls have been told by their mommies and daddies

that you are not the good person they should be seen in public with

and even though you are not to blame you are not to be talked to

you carry in your hands the alpha and omega of karmic proportions

a very sad victim of circumstance

drugs, rocknroll and rape

the screaming voice

begging for help

has been taken and burned

any chance of escape slips further away

as you watch more and more

initiates into the taboo of moral decline and killers of ego

dance past with a smile, a nod, a pat on the head

all the while you maintain a constant look out

for the escape hatch or hidden button

the scooby doo bookcase that flips you into the safety

a passageway between your bed and the outside

outside is more inviting than home

when the devil sees you

honing in on an opportunity

to revisit the room full of dolls

dolls with the sparkling happy faces and the hymen intact

you know the routine

turn your head

eyes closed

block it out

don’t make a sound

this is the emmy winning drama “the rapist of my life”

you were left and he took over

breaking promises

forging lies of glittering silver and needle marks

you can smell it in his sweat dripping on your face

the egg of death and starter fluid

a gooey violent center


sending sickness swimming

down your thighs

the dreams of ponies, rainbows, and pretty pink flowers

have been boxed up and given away to other children

you have no more time for things such as those

there is no use to have dolls when you can have babies

bearing the sin of the father

growing and nurturing

your childhood replaced with a child of your own

a ten year old mother

smart enough and strong enough

to find a hope and a prayer

for the salvation of the future

after the midnight “bonding”

the taking and shaking

as mother screams “why do you want her more than me”

it’s safe to close your eyes and search for a hope and a safety

a time of frantic praying to anything

a wish on every star

“star light star bright first star i see tonight

i wish i may

i wish i might

have the wish i wish tonight!”

soothing words

a song of hope that died long ago

reborn renewed

a prayer

a mantra

a dream

a fantasy

begging the omnipotent

the one who turned on you as you face the house of horrors alone

god and the devil in casinos and your life as betting chips

rolling dice and drinking shots while you becoming the new job

growing a monster

made of a monster

in a monster paradise

the king dick of killers of innocence and murderers of love

the repo man hitching your innocence up and towing it away

the last hope

the only solace left in the darkness and terror

the cold dark blood stained sheets and the pillow soaked in tears

the thing that will be human

it moves and kicks twisting inside

a light

one ray of hope shining through the curtain and darkness

pacts and promises offered and no response from the shop upstairs

it moves


expanding your belly

eating the baby fat still left in your cheeks

you are no longer a baby and it is time that you are a woman

the mother of your brother who grows inside planted by the father

the off ramps all closed for repair

leaving only one escape

as the water spills down

mixing with the nightly bank deposits

the liquid reminder that you are daddy’s favorite girl and toy

as the mother screams in jealous rages and forgets her duties

the morality killed by needles full of poison and insanity

the problems of the screaming devils no longer audible

the only sound is the sound of catching your breath in pain

the sound of your feet scurrying for the items packed away

the case of preparation built months before in silence

“the next pain it will be time, are you ready? you can do it!”

legs and feet prepared, all the ritual tools at the ready

10 year old birth canal in action

the magical truth found-the life and death of everything

it is never clean

never pretty

blood in blood out

as the pain begins under the ribs

moving down

the huge mass folding in on itself

body screaming

there will be no baby, no doll, it’s time for daddy’s girls to go

no prayers, no crying, one sound heard:a shot to the head

the unholy product is taken gently by the silence of the newly dead


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