This note in my hand

By Melissa Kelly

I’m not that little girl

So vulnerable and small

With thick glasses and braids

I’m not that innocent child

That kept secrets and was afraid

The things you did to me

In your drunken rage

I felt dirty and used

My soul bruised

You were mean and cold

And as stand before you

I need you to understand

It was not okay to put me through

It was never something fathers do

For so long  I felt guilt and shame

I hid behind the lies and pain

While you lived carefree

I built this prison around me

Today I’ll break free.

Melissa Kelly is a poet and short story writer from Long Island, NY. You can see some of her work in WestWard Quarterly Magazine, Plum Tree Tavern, Soft Cartel, and Amethyst Review