The Ones You Hit

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

That time you said you loved me.

We walked side by side.

Finger to finger,

You and me, sisters forever.

That’s what we vowed.

That evening.


Dropped to our feet,

Yellow, red, orange

Crackled beneath our shoes. 

Sun, streamed down.

Surrounded by the canopy of trees. 


A moment carved in my mind.

A talk whispered from our lips.

Transformed to hate.

Cold and hard, full of malice.

Daggers you darted at my chest.

Twisted against me.

Used to your advantage.

What else could I say?

In what different way?

Over coffee? Tea? 

Does it matter?

I spoke up for them.

Offered them my voice.

My nieces. 

Your sweet girls 

The ones you hit.

Again and again before my eyes.

They told me what you did! 

Yet I became the bad one.

The one who wronged you.

Who misjudged you.

I opened my mouth.

I spewed truth.

Words you refused to hear. 

You closed your ears to me, to your children

To the world.

Your brain damaged by our youth

Warped by your religion

That’s Christian love


The type that enables predators, blames the innocent

Preys on the weak

Steals from the poor and fuels the rich

Preach to me...oh pious one.

Higher than me, my own sister. 

Show me your fruits of the spirit

Your Christian values.

I protected you as a baby, a child, a teen

Saved you from abuse many times over.

This is how you repay me. 

To split our families apart

To tread in both their footsteps

To repeat what we endured

That vicious cycle.

Bitterness you clench in your fist,  

You spear the depths of me.

Parts I flung to sea.

Now float ashore. 

Those sands of sadness, 

Spill over me.

Remind me of what happened. 

What we fought to escape.  

You and me, united by tragedy.

Our children we carried in our bellies.

We promised they would run, laugh and play together.

You ruined it.

Ruined us

Shattered our dreams,

Our future I desperately hoped for. 


Goodbye dearest sister.

That autumn evening.

That time you said you loved me.

Fucked up love indeed.



Submitted: February 16, 2018

© Copyright 2021 Joy Shaw. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


Dr. Acula

This is tragically beautiful , and by "beautiful", I mean this: growth comes from a disgusting shape at first, then becomes another thing, full of life, wrong or right......but heres the catch...its either takes the form of something more disgusting, or becomes loved no matter its appearance, and from this we ourselves ..what is beautiful ?
Something that was once thought of as ugly , which has found its way to be forgiven for things it did not commit.
Forgiveness, for others, for ourselves and more importantly....for the love that betrayed all of us.

Yep, thats my commentary )))
I have no hope to inspire ( though I might ) or words to reassure ( though I could ),
I just have one word. For you, for them, for me, for all of us.

Fri, February 16th, 2018 4:33am


Hard to voice your disgust and disappointment, even harder to hear that you are wrong for saying it. A sad and emotional poem that should not happen but does. Well-penned, Joy.

Fri, February 16th, 2018 8:56pm


Thank you. It's very disheartening. Especially when they say they love you and those they abuse.
On another subject, would love if you could be the first to read my newest short story, Pussy Reaper's Revenge

Fri, February 16th, 2018 1:22pm

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