Move Me Poetry
Published in

Move Me Poetry

Black Leather

Learning Not To Cry *Trigger Warning: Mentions of abuse*

Photo by Olayinka Babalola on Unsplash

I sat on the edge of my childhood bed,
while my father stood over me —
one arm lifted, his hand tightly gripping
his belt. The belt was black leather
cracked and worn, and occasionally,
it liked to sing. It was the same belt
he sometimes bent
into an oval before making it snap,
clap — like thunder —
creating a storm, indoors,
that made…

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Rachel K. Gause

Rachel K. Gause

623 Followers

If you surrendered to the air, you could ride it. ~Toni Morrison