Cascade

they said, standing over her, that she was too young to remember
they said, watching her squirm, that she was too young to talk
they said many things

talking of trivialities as a finger slipped inside her
drinking beer from cans as they met
as no one was home to see it

and once when she was three
there was the opportunity
he could not resist the chance to see if she would still obey him

called her into a peach-tiled room
clouded with steam
she stood on the toilet
to take him in her mouth again...
nearly choked by it

and she grew a little older
he grew a little bolder
and him, and the ones who had always been there
took their turns
playing with the girl

taught her reflexes
so that she would obey
and since it was all she knew
she did not hesitate
but part of her split off
separated from the rest

and she came to the call
dropped everything to answer
ran to be picked up
to be held
to be touched, to be the receptacle
for foreign objects in every way possible

only one thing they held themselves from
because it was the one thing most easily checked
so until she was seventeen she was still officially virgin

she'll never remember it
too young to know about it
too easily coerced from telling

although she did try, once
to have the father told
so that he threatened her strangled her raped her soul
as he had her body

and nothing was wrong

there's a screaming in my head that never ever goes away
except sometimes it dies down to a whimper

i wake up in the night covered in sweat
frozen stiff
to hear the last whispers in my ears
look what happens when we do this

and when the time came
that cancer had invaded the body
most of it stopped
afraid that such close observation would reveal the secrets contained

and she learned again how to take the pain without flinching
she learned again how to take it as her due
there is nothing that exists but pain...

she's too young to talk, to say it
she'll never remember it
what's the harm in a little game
haven't you always wondered what it would be like
and anyway, she's mine, you can do whatever you want...
just don't leave marks that her mother could see

and another, who thought he was the only one
who took his pleasure in the touch of her skin
of slipping his hands onto her body as she slept
as she pretended to sleep
caught up in the stillness
she had learned before
be still, ignore it, it will go away...

and there are so many ways to do this
so many ways to use her
and it doesn't hurt her--
or she'd do more than just lay there,
she'd do more than just sit there and take it

so it's no big deal
and when she's alone in the silence of the night
she wakes with a start at the first creak of her door
that is never allowed to close
she wakes, and is still, as they come to her bed
to the couch
to the bathroom
to the garden shed
and she is still waiting in silence
and she is still waiting in readiness for them to return

her dreams still haunted
coming faster, more quickly in succession
because she needs to know
has to know
because there is no other way to be
and because she needs too much
still waiting, with every word she writes, for the blow to fall

for them to come kill her dead

but they don't even have to be there
because she'll do it to herself now
she'll torture herself with going back into the nightmares
going back into the past seeking the reasons
there have to be reasons
there has to be a cause
a why

and she leaves her body to go there
back into the dreaming
she searches the past for what happened
and today she tried again
five hours searching to remember...

but

they said, standing over her, that she was too young to remember
they said, watching her squirm, that she was too young to talk
they said many things
she's too young to talk, to say it
she'll never remember it
what's the harm in a little game
haven't you always wondered what it would be like
and anyway, she's mine, you can do whatever you want...