Clarence Williams

(May 19,1980 / Washington, D.C)

Clean Dishes Inside A Dirty Sink


How can you give us away my blue ski turn into grey leaving out of grandma's house nothing was said no movement not even a mouse. And then thee abuse started. 

      The children there faces, moving into new places, the smile on there faces, the touch brought sad faces! His skin  his hand his penis did stand, our mouth he open he inserted it floated, nasty the taste, he replied for goodness sake! the night was his day that we became the prey, the kids tried  to fight, but he cut off the lights, his eyes, his vision the target the children the hall the kitchen, a Wilde animal became hidden and loose!  the rooster the goose, the duck the snake had escaped! the run the chase naked all day, the snake was up he tore the kids clothes off, the bed he played his snake did lay on us until it got sick and spit! he put back in the cave it went. Until the next day
 
    How can you give us away my blue ski turn into grey leaving out of grandma's house nothing was said no movement not even a mouse. And then thee abuse started. 
 

Tired and sleepy naked and chilly under the covers we lay, no one did say nothing! ! but we prayed that a decision be made that our mother would come and get us but she didn't! scared and weary up to see the visit form mommy at the place where tears became the case. Never did she ask what's wrong with her clean dishes that became place  in a space were the water is dirty. My mother time became over were back in the car, the odder the smell of the lotion that was put on the snake that made him sick and spit.
      The bathroom time was interrupted he made you feel decussated, the sight when you see him made you sick that you wanted to kill him! We were three brothers whose mom did us dis just. We played it off each and everyday for hoping of a change or a brighter day to take place but it didn't come but he did! ! ! ! ! !
 
who once was full of life became the victims  when the lights was turned off  by night. Can this be my reality or I'm dreaming.  My tears have a voice, on my inside  just die, where my tears resides and awaken when I had to face my reality each and everyday So confuse about whats in front of me, that the world that one was a custom to has now become a memory that's dead and left my mind  I shake my head to the sound of someone closing the door, because of the show  the molestation the performance that was headed to an all time encore that made my brothers and I sick. Because we were clean dishes inside the dirty sink.

Submitted: Thursday, October 18, 2012
Edited: Monday, October 29, 2012

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