Innocent little beatings

by Kaila   Feb 27, 2009


Fetal position, in the bed she lays,
twirling her finger in her birds nest.
Cuticles are torn, hangnails approaching.
Nails are bitten below stress level.

Her beaten plush dog beneath her shakes,
configuring if he will stay or go.
One more night of lint supper wont hurt.
Tremble; hearing his boots approach the door.

She crouched into the corner of her un-kept bed.
Dreading the things that the teacher might have said.
She knew about the bruising before the bell had rung.
Now he looked at her indignant, clenching tight.

That's when he swung hard brazing her cheek.
Her round chubby face oozed with blood.
Lips were cracking, without water she felt weak.
Another blow, against his innocent five year old.

She knew not to scream or he would hit again.
Silenced, like a slumbering baby; so peaceful.
He threw her to the floor, his foot found her stomach.
One stomp, two stomp, three stomp, four.

This time she screamed. She hollered loud and clear.
Until he silenced her with a blow to the eye.
As she whimpered against her carpet he scowled;
Without food she would go for the rest of the week.

As the end of the week approached, she ate.
He knew, she could feel that he knew what she did.
Her skin craving to crawl off her body; pleads.
One look and she knows. It's over from here.

He takes her by the neck to the bathroom; stifling.
Banged her forehead against the cold toilet seat.
Jabbing his finger down her throat with force.
She loathes the feeling as it inches up her throat.

It fills the toilet to the rim, leaving access blood.
She sobs, as he kicks her in the chest forcefully.
No longer does she breathe, but she smiles.
She will now be happy, and away from the hate.

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Latest Comments

  • 15 years ago

    by Italian Stallion

    Sad write that was well written. The only thing is it was kind of long for my liking, but other than that it was good and had a nice rhythm. Keep up the good work.

    Peace, Joe

  • 15 years ago

    by Cierra

    This was powerfull and i loved this poem

  • 15 years ago

    by CanUKissAwayMyPain

    Fetal position, in the bed she lays,
    twirling her finger in her birds nest.
    Cuticles are torn, hangnails approaching.
    Nails are bitten below stress level.

    this was a amzing way to beging ur poem. it caught my attention imataly <(yes i think i spelld that wrong)

    Her beaten plush dog beneath her shakes,
    configuring if he will stay or go.
    One more night of lint supper wont hurt.
    Tremble; hearing his boots approach the door.

    this was scary. it gave me shivers tho my body. hearing his coming to her n she cant do anything about it. run or hide.

    She crouched into the corner of her un-kept bed.
    Dreading the things that the teacher might have said.
    She knew about the bruising before the bell had rung.
    Now he looked at her indignant, clenching tight.

    Wow this was just wow. can say anything to it.

    That's when he swung hard brazing her cheek.
    Her round chubby face oozed with blood.
    Lips were cracking, without water she felt weak.
    Another blow, against his innocent five year old.

    omg i could imagine all that in my mind. the blood n the look in her eyes. it just heartbreaking someone would do that.

    She knew not to scream or he would hit again.
    Silenced, like a slumbering baby; so peaceful.

    she knew imataly <(yes it's the same word as b4 guess i spelled it differeny again lol) very sading. seeing someone who cant go anything or say anything. just be silent. silents is a killer to some.

    This time she screamed. She hollered loud and clear.
    Until he silenced her with a blow to the eye.
    As she whimpered against her carpet he scowled;
    Without food she would go for the rest of the week.
    just awful. but very well writen you wrote it.

    As the end of the week approached, she ate.
    He knew, she could feel that he knew what she did.
    Her skin craving to crawl off her body; pleads.
    One look and she knows. It's over from here.

    nicely done wnt change anything here

    He takes her by the neck to the bathroom; stifling.
    Banged her forehead against the cold toilet seat.
    Jabbing his finger down her throat with force.
    She loathes the feeling as it inches up her throat.

    so imagerny again i can see it running thro my mind.

    It fills the toilet to the rim, leaving access blood.
    She sobs, as he kicks her in the chest forcefully.
    No longer does she breathe, but she smiles.
    She will now be happy, and away from the hate

    A very nice end to this piece indeed. you did an amzing job here. very sad n harsh someone would do that. but very well writen indeed.
    5/5 truly

    TaKe caRe,
    Frenchy

  • 15 years ago

    by ether

    The story is sickening. It honestly made me feel sick. So you've done a good job with your words and the plot of this.
    You have a few things to work on, though.
    The first time, "fetal position in the bed she lays"
    Well.. if you're in the fetal position you wouldn't be standing up.

    And I think the ending needs to be stronger, or cut the last line off it (you don't need to tell the reader there's hate, they can tell that from the poem).

    There isn't much critique I can offer on a narative type poem. Maybe if you used a few metaphors.. but I don't see how that is possible.
    Oh, alliteration! It will become your best friend, if you slip some in there it'll make the poem flow a lot easier.

    But once again, I must commend you on the power of your story, I had a physical reaction to it which very rarely happens. Good work :)
    5/5

    jess ~

  • 15 years ago

    by umbra

    I have to agree with the others that this poem is very striking...pun intended. From the start you feel the fear this child does and you are with her throughout the entire bloody ordeal. The imagery is amazing and the only thing that tickles in the back of my mind is wondering what could cause such rampant hate toward another being, especially an innocent. Bravo! You get a five from me!