The Picture
She drew a picture of a zipper going down
my mom and I stared at the picture on the refrigerator
with a frown.
We analyzed the picture as if we were psychologists
and tried to unearth the real meaning
What could a zipper going down symbolize
I glanced back and forward at her and it
A dark thought crept into our heads
What if she was being touched
and this was her way of crying out for help
I stared into her eyes with new found fear
could my brother be touching this child?
Every since I could remember I had been
calling her my niece but in reality
we weren't connected by blood
My brother had taken her dead beat dads place
and entered himself as her daddy in this race
it was the honorable thing to do
and because he was being so damn charitable
we never let that dark thought come
about again.
It was a couple of years later when
the picture finally came to life
and the girl finally ended her silence
I've never been so embarrassed
our first inclination was right
and now she is forever ruined
by a supposed father figure and
my older brother.
Now he is locked away.
Him and his sins behind bars.
I will never forgive what he has done.
My only regret is that I didn't realize
this sooner. That day. That fear I felt.
The picture.
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