I must have been about ten the night Dad decided to
The first time.
I grabbed my little brother and our bedding and headed next door
In Search of Grown-Ups
Because the banging was too loud
As we were settling for sleep on the curvy sofa, in front of the telly
The Man of the House
and punched The Woman of the House in the
Stomach. “ You’d better go” she said
So back we went
My Father was brushing his teeth.
Mum was hiding her Bruises
As I shook my sleeping bag out
over my bed
He cried and
How much he loved Us.
Trigger Warning – a poem written by a survivor