Why Did He Stop?

I ask myself a lot  why did he stop?
Did I make too much noise? Did he
hear other boys stir, their sleeping bags flop,
anticipating eavesdrops? Too dark to see
what he was turning me into beneath
black nylon, stars. Do choked sobs travel far?
A body he pulled from a crowd asleep,
attacked — was I too loud, muffled and marred?
I cried the very first moment.  He liked
wet things that weep. I still see his pale arms
some nights I cannot sleep. Two decades psych
evaluations of his limited harm
dissecting desire to tear me apart.
It’s not why did he stop?Why did he start?

Photo Credit: Jean-Luc Toilet Flickr via Compfight cc

Kristin Garth

Kristin Garth is a poet from Pensacola, Florida. She is a knee sock aficionado and a sonnet stalker. Her sonnets have stalked the pages of Luna Luna, Occulum, Anti-Heroin Chic, Ghost City Review, Drunk Monkeys, TERSE, Journal and many other publications. Her chapbook Pink Plastic House is available through maverickduckpress.com

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