9/12/10
She tries to sleep but the darkness
wakes her up same time every night,
For it’s the pitch black that activates
the worm hole that doesn’t offer
a trip but sucks her right in,

And I’m four years old again
but only in regards to my body,
And I’m twenty years old
in my head and I’m hating,
Fists are clenched and I,

She tries to move her horrid past
like telekinesis out of her mind,
For it’s the memories that cut
her skin in the form of a knife
trying to bleed it’s ways out,

Back to the worm hole
she feels so weak,
In the body of a four year old
the world looks bleak,
It’s only when she cries
that he starts to stop,
That memory for the hundredth
time is the only thing she needed
to confirm the fact that he is a monster,
Nowhere near human,
And neither was she,
How could she be?

They say time travel is not possible,
So how am I living in the past?
They say time travel is not possible,
So why is it so hard to live in the moment?

And the worm hole above her bed
stays in place as she relives her past,
And before she herself comes back through
her guts do, that squirming feeling
travels from her head to her stomach
and nausea with the force to pick her
up off her feet and through time,

She shoves another pill down
just like she tries to squash the past,
For it’s the memories that swallow
a dozen pills in the form of her
very on throat, her enemy,

And every night she is thrown
without a choice through time,
And I’m four years old again,
And it so badly hurts my head,
to be so victimized night after night,
And with all the smarts in my mind
I can’t seem to get rid of the pain,
And all I can attempt to do is to rewrite
the past and my fists clenched,

I punch him square in the jaw,
with the hand of a child
but the heart of a disaster,
with such young knuckles
but such old pain,

And so every night I will not be the only suffering,
And I hope he time travels too.