Peering Through The Banisters

Dedicated to all the children who have escaped through the rabbit hatch - broken bones and all.

Everchange also has an interesting post, which dwelves into the psyche of abusers.

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I’m crouching at the top of the stairs
The sounds woke us up
Richard followed to see what was going on
Raised voices, Mummy shouting
(Mummy never shouts)


I try and make myself as small as possible
So they don’t notice me
She’s struggling for the door
He lifts her and slams her to the ground.
Richard gasps in shock
I clasp my hand to his mouth
To keep him from shouting out
(HE mustn’t notice us!)


Mummy flies and jumps over him
She is almost through the door
He slams it hard on her
I hear something crunching
She cries out in pain.
“I’m leaving William, I’m leaving!
You can’t stop me
You are going to have to kill me …”


My heart is racing
I start to cry silently
My mind is torn in two
Part of me wants her to go,
Flee the night, escape.
The other part is scared
(Please don’t leave me Mummy
Don’t leave me here with him)


They continue to struggle on the floor
He’s hitting her repeatedly
I can see her blood staining the carpet
She turns her head and our eyes meet
She sighs and shakes her head
She didn’t want me to see this
The fight has left her.


He looks up and catches us
Terror clamps my chest
“Go back to your room NOW!”
We get up and run to bed
I hide under my blanket and listen out
I hear nothing.


The next morning.
We wake up and go down for breakfast
Everyone sits at their normal places
Except for the housegirl scrubbing the carpet,
We all act like nothing happened.

Another Work day

Sitting at work feeling tired
Look out of the window to grey skies
Feeling blue and lethargic
Drinking copious amounts of coffee
And sneaking the odd piece of chocolate.
Fighting back the yawns and nervous twitching
Shivering slightly due to the cold air conditioners
(Sheesh! It's winter people!)
Staring into the screen in the hopes of focusing on work
Playing with my phones and checking for mesgs
Scanning through emails to kill time
Wrapping up in my pashmina to garner some warmth
(making the battle against sleep even harder)

Ah I want to go home and huddle up in bed.
The countdown for 6 o'clock has begun.

Downtown

I couldn't decide what name to choose from between Getting head/Down South/Booty Call for this, but have since gone with popular conjecture, which i then changed to Downtown when I saw the SWV video again (totally didn't get it at the time - loll)

Oh and this is dedicated to Soul who’s poem [Soul – why] and impatience pushed me to write this, as well as OWNB, who's openness about sex makes me feel slightly brave.

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Downtown

It’s 3.40am
I’m running to the shower but he beats me to it.
The doorbell rings as I’m wrapped in my towel.
Ahh well, I asked for it.
I can’t keep him waiting.
I open the door.

We are on the floor in the living room.
My towel has dropped by the hallway
He is licking me out.
His tongue is hot, wet, unimaginable.
This is better than anything I could have dreamed when I called him over
He is stroking my clitoris and the spaces in between
He grasps my thighs and pulls me closer
He slides his tongue into my hole and circles the rim
Oh my god, I want to die

His tongue is twisting …
Tapping …
Searching …
And oh dear lord he finds it.
It is too much
I am moaning, squirming, moving, scratching, pulling
It is too much
I can’t take it anymore
He continues.

And continues,
And continues.
He is trying, bless him, he really is
All of a sudden it hits me
I’m not there anymore
That crazy intense I’m going to explode any second, feeling has dissipated
I have somehow moved from that to this,
This, which is doing nothing for me …
I have lost my mojo.

I tell him to stop
He tries to insist on finishing
But I make him stop.
It was a good effort.
Thanks for coming over.
I’ll call you tomorrow.
Goodbye.