Steps
The first steps taken on a bed of a wooden prison
Where my knees buckled and warped
The unsturdy padding offered little support
I still walk funny because of it.
Those cautious steps out the door when I was 8
Into a suburban mystery at 4AM
My Barbie nightgown clinging to goose ridden flesh
Until a blue and red picked me up and took me home
The scattered steps of fear as my feet scraped wood
A calloused hand socked my shoulder into the refrigerator
A cold glare and booze reeking maw met my eyes
As his spittle flew out of his mouth and on to my cheek
The uncertain steps I took on that back porch
The day I was asked the eternally changing question
Of what I at 14 thought was best for our family
And I, told the truth. One of my biggest regrets.
The begrudging steps to his truck two years later
Torn from my siblings on a scorching day in June
Into a new hell, one I hoped to escape
One that led to the state of my mind now
The curious steps into employment
A temporary distraction to the darkness at home
A distraction from the stinging pain of my wrist
Where rubberband bracelets hid an unhealthy secret
Those imaginary steps I'd often take in my head
Into a busy intersection packed with death machines
Where a flash of lights and quick glint of metal
Would be the last thing I saw, before finding solace in nothingness.
I, however, bravely stepped onwards.
From house to house. Job to job.
Until the night I met him; the him.
In a run down theater that hosted a show.
The tranquil steps on beaches and at parks
Where his eyes lit up and his laughter lit me up.
His gentle, humorous demeanor was a reprieve.
One I swallowed, a fish out of water
2 years later at 24, I wear a ring of gold and diamond
And glow with prospect of the future
A chance to show my worth and meaning
Especially since our most recent development
The scared yet excited steps from our bathroom
And me, clutching that stick, its two lines confirming a dream
A new life to the world growing inside me
Each day increasing in size, now 7 months strong
I hope her first steps will be ones I won't ever forget.
© melluvssunsetswrites
Where my knees buckled and warped
The unsturdy padding offered little support
I still walk funny because of it.
Those cautious steps out the door when I was 8
Into a suburban mystery at 4AM
My Barbie nightgown clinging to goose ridden flesh
Until a blue and red picked me up and took me home
The scattered steps of fear as my feet scraped wood
A calloused hand socked my shoulder into the refrigerator
A cold glare and booze reeking maw met my eyes
As his spittle flew out of his mouth and on to my cheek
The uncertain steps I took on that back porch
The day I was asked the eternally changing question
Of what I at 14 thought was best for our family
And I, told the truth. One of my biggest regrets.
The begrudging steps to his truck two years later
Torn from my siblings on a scorching day in June
Into a new hell, one I hoped to escape
One that led to the state of my mind now
The curious steps into employment
A temporary distraction to the darkness at home
A distraction from the stinging pain of my wrist
Where rubberband bracelets hid an unhealthy secret
Those imaginary steps I'd often take in my head
Into a busy intersection packed with death machines
Where a flash of lights and quick glint of metal
Would be the last thing I saw, before finding solace in nothingness.
I, however, bravely stepped onwards.
From house to house. Job to job.
Until the night I met him; the him.
In a run down theater that hosted a show.
The tranquil steps on beaches and at parks
Where his eyes lit up and his laughter lit me up.
His gentle, humorous demeanor was a reprieve.
One I swallowed, a fish out of water
2 years later at 24, I wear a ring of gold and diamond
And glow with prospect of the future
A chance to show my worth and meaning
Especially since our most recent development
The scared yet excited steps from our bathroom
And me, clutching that stick, its two lines confirming a dream
A new life to the world growing inside me
Each day increasing in size, now 7 months strong
I hope her first steps will be ones I won't ever forget.
© melluvssunsetswrites