Sometimes a girl buries her feelings…

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photo: pixabay

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Grandpa Lee

She cringed when

they made the last

turn toward Bromide.

 

He would be there

smelling of cherry

bourbon and chew.

 

His whiskers burning

her cheeks when he

forced a sloppy kiss.

 

His hands squeezing

her chest as he laughed

about her growing titties.

 

His knee forcing her

legs apart as she struggled

to breathe beneath his weight.

 

Is it no wonder she

stabbed him at ten, her

bastard of a grandfather.

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photo:  pixabay

You’re Late

The dark closed in around her

headlights barely picking up

the white and yellow lines.

 

Hands clenched the wheel

so hard she felt the blood

pulsing in her rigid wrists.

 

She was late, the weather unruly

and time ticked away one

second at a time against her.

 

In the drive she sat, steeling

herself for the punishment

waiting on the other side of the door.

 

He would be there, waiting

with emotionless black eyes

and the weapon of his choosing.

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photo: pixabay