Fatherless Child

There once was a day I would watch every airplane. Praying you was on it to come take me away. As a child I wanted you around until the day, you actually came. The day you came is the day my life forever changed. I remember as if it was yesterday when you physically violated me. Mental visions as early as the age of eight, but old enough to vociferate. Visualizing mental pictures in my mind while I am awake very aware of the improper abuse I take. Your body on me feels something like an autopsy of a dead body. While you lay on top of me as you press aggressively on me. Against my will your force kept me still. I am trying to understand if you recognize who I am. I try to say no hoping you can comprehend; I am weakling as you apprehend. Mentally and physically I became involuntarily your property. A main character in a horror story, and you were my predatory. I asked “God why?” as I bare to stare into his eyes. This is not thee love I seek; all I wanted was my father to love me, but not like this injustice of violation of my rights. This love is not real; not the love I wished to feel. As he tries to stick his tongue into my mouth too young to know what this is all about. I grip my lips painfully tight as he tries to slip his tongue inside. I close them tighter with all my might, as he whispers, “let me love you right” I beg him to leave as he pried my legs open with his knees my insides scream “somebody please help me!” As he whispers how much he loves me I’m praying for God to just kill me. I rather be dead then a man’s punching bag. As I lay there my body was dead, and I laid my soul to rest. I looked around the room and seen the Old Spice on the desk the same fragrance he wore around his neck. The sun began to rise as he began to close my thighs. In that moment in time I had made up my mind any man that ever say they love me was just telling lies. I learned the hard way that love does not kill your inside; love does not take your pride. A fatherless child I shall forever reside. Every day that passes that little eight-year-old girl dies slowly inside. Asking Jesus,” Why permit this?” and he slowly whispers…as I gently whimpers, “faith is the light that guide you through the darkness, my words reflecting as a lamp unto my feet.” “Walk unto my path I’m here to carry the weak, come into me you are weary and overburdened. I will carry the pain you have obtained.” “I am your father and you are my child you are never fatherless because I’m always around.”