I was Eight

Cannot breathe

Sheets smell of a two day continuous fart gala

Eeeww!…He flicked a booger on me that he had balled up like a balloon.

I have become a waste can for fresh, newly picked boogers.

How do you get raped while the rapist picks his nose?

You remember the punishment that will befall you next time Mom and dad are away.

Between the tears and his sweat your Tweey Bird nightie is drenched and a full breath is impossible.

He’s so scrawny yet feels like a boulder on your chest.

Rolling off of me, he does a gymnastic type dance and is on the floor.

“Get out of my bed, slut” he remarks in a sneering yet comical way,

but you can still get the hint that he means business.

I was eight.