Heavy handed hammering of my knuckles at your door.
Shouted threats and insults make you cower to the floor.
“Let me in. I’m not bad, I just want to TALK!”
Breaking glass, reaching past to turn your precious lock.
“Put it down, the lines been cut, no one to save you now.”
Your lesson’s begun, my fist is slick, you cry and beg and bow.
I did not hear his now grown feet, no longer pitter pattering.
Falling to the the floor, head ringing, my vision swiftly fading.
He is standing over me, swinging the bat that broke his father’s heart.
Not fully a man yet, but he understands the part.
I am done. A broken soul, never to harm another.
All the same as when I killed my vicious bastard of a father.