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(6) The painted faces run
by Meghan HelmichAt thirteen I was molested
by a family member,
and I held the shame in my fist
until I could leave the state
and shed my leper skin
among the fresh faces.
I let you pry my fingers open,
and we unfolded the white flag,
tucked it under the corners of the mattress,
and made love until surrender came to us.
We painted the walls
with a collage of pictures and
years of the 'Missed Connections'
section of the newspaper
to remind us
that people are still hungry
for each other. 11/16/2011 Posted on 11/16/2011
Copyright © 2025 Meghan Helmich
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 11/16/11 at 11:29 PM Hunger seems to the name of the game here, and you express it with beautiful insight and strength. |
| Posted by Sal Haefling on 11/17/11 at 02:14 AM Wow, this is fantastic. As you know, I can relate to this and every word in it. I loved the last stanza. Incredible work, once again. |
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