Today’s prompt was to write gossip, or a secret. To call out nonsense. To share something I heard. To tell the truth. And the idea that came to mind hits me really hard. I cried while writing this. Twice.
My aunt, 3 years older than me, was sexually abused by a family member when she was young. His wife enabled the situation. Was complicit. She’s still alive: 99 yo. My aunt unalived herself when she was 23, and I’m so certain she’d be will us if she hadn’t gone through such terrible things when she was young. Anyhoo. Here’s the poem.
I hear you’re paying for softball fields
and scholarships for young people
but I know a secret
of a life you ended too early
complicit in stolen innocence
an accomplice to sexual violence
I know your secret
though not how far back it goes
I don’t believe in God, per se
but if I’m wrong and there’s a heaven
no amount will buy you in
it’s straight to the fires for you
where you’ll join him
burning
until the fire purifies the hatred and harm you caused
transforming to ash to feed and nourish
I don’t belive in revenge, per se
but I secretly count the days until you (hypothetically) burn