If only the window would break
so I could fall away
from this midnight distress
of heavy breathing
laden with bourbon
If only I was not petrified
of what could
happen next
of what might
be my agony
If only this man
kept his hands
and his mutterings
of his wife’s failings
to himself
If only I was bigger
stronger
less frightened
when his hand clamped
down on me so hard
If only I was older
and knew what to do
beyond shaking
smiling glazed
and going numb
If only the moon
didn’t highlight
the deed
whitewash the evil
occurring below
If only the moon could save me
I Write Her 
if only compassion wasn’t becoming a lost art. Good one, Susi.
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How ironic you just mentioned that when I just thought the same thing. Thanks, Eugenia! I’m glad there are still some people left in this world who “get it”. ❤
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If only! Great poem
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Thank you, Sadje! Yes, if only…
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You’re welcome Susi.
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two even like steven
three odd
and out
and no need to shout
like c
be wise
and stay off
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Assaulters don’t know how to be wise and stay off.
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