The Thing Poem by Kayaeisha Shaw

Standing over his dead body
I smiled with satisfaction.
Remembering the pain, he caused me.
I can still remember his awful odor, and taste.
Being exposed to what
I was exposed to when I was only eight years old,
Can take a toll on the lighthearted.
He tells me to hush and that he will not hurt me.
He lied, it was the most excruciating pain I have ever felt.
He entered his thing behind me,
and I screamed like my life depended on it.
The thing was going in and out.
With every thrust, I would cry harder.
I felt something trickle down my leg
It was my blood.
Why was he doing this?
He told me I was being punished
Cause I was a bad girl.
He turned me over,
putting my face to the thing
I bit down on it with all the force I could manage.
I tried to run but he caught me
and punched me in the face.
I was stunned into silence.
He grab me, threw me on the bed
And entered me again.
This time it was faster and harder.
I screamed as loud as I could
but know one heard me.
I threw up and passed out.
He was only thirteen years old.
This went on for a year.
Now I am nine years old
in juvenile dentition for second-degree murder.
I went into his room
with a butcher knife behind my back.
I woke him up, smiled as I looked into his eyes.
Seeing the fear, he once saw in my eyes.
I stabbed him one hundred-fifty time
It was for every time he raped me.
His blood splattered on my face
and all I could do was smile with satisfaction.
He and the thing could never hurt me again;
I could not be happier
HAHAHAHA