She carried her story stitched into seams
of days and buttoned tight by fear.
In black of night beer-breath whispers
of reassurance from a father who stole
innocence and demanded silence in return
for the virus that would infect her future.
She avoided mother’s eyes, spurned
her love and resisted anyone else’s
becoming cold as her grave of unwanted
memories, like her stillborn child,
the truth buried too deep to ever dig up
and face or find words to speak about.
Paul Waring is a retired clinical psychologist from the UK, who once designed menswear and was a singer/songwriter in several Liverpool bands. His poems have appeared in a number of journals/sites including Reach Poetry, Eunoia Review, The Open Mouse and are forthcoming in Clear Poetry and Amaryllis. He blogs at https://waringwords.wordpress.com