Tag Archives: victims

The gentle knock upon my door

The Chaplain drops by
Checking my progress
Multiple times
Questioning my faith

Asking continuously
If there’s anything I need
Anything at all
He can do for me

Do I want to talk
Would I like to pray
Have I had any visitors
What about support system

Are you sure you’re alright
He says with a smile
Sitting as if to stay
Making my skin crawl

I assure him
I’m just fine
No need to stay
No need for concern

If you need me
He said…

No matter the time
Just tell the nurse
I’ll be here all night

And as I turned to watch him go
I felt my hair brush cross my back
And realized the view
Upon entering my room

As I sat cross legged
In the middle of my bed
Gown hanging open
Mjölnir exposed

Tonight I want my door locked
At the end of the hall
Round the corner from the stairwell

But I know they won’t allow it
So I say no to the pain meds
To sleep with one eye open

As this man is no man of the cloth
Using God to come round to call

Behind his wire-rim glasses
and cheap button up shirt

I look in his eyes past the Veil
And find deviant desires with deadly intent
And one hell of a giant fucking Freakbox

©2012 jill terry

Easter at the Vatican

At the manmade altar
Dressed in gold
As if possessing
A direct connection

To the Lord
Our God

Men of sin
Most sadistic
Vile unconscionable
Acts against the

Professing to the
Holy Father
To be on the side
Of God

Rallying for
In defiant
On this the
Holiest of days

A slap in the face
Of Jesus

Who suffered
At our hands
And weeps for
Our souls

Sexual abusers

Before God

By untold numbers
Of victims throughout
Our world

Impenetrable codes
Of secrecy and silence
May keep them
From the wrath
Of man

Pales to nothing
In the shadow

Of the wrath of God
They will be forced
To withstand

These are not
Men of God
They are demons

Hiding in the halls
Of God’s house
Preying on the weak
Trusting souls

© jillterry

Insanity’s Final Adieu

His was a miserable life; wandering the globe pretending to be lost, feigning insanity due to all sorts of abuse; self-inflicted, youthful demons victim, to any and all who showed the slightest inclination of interest. In truth, he knew exactly where he was going, what the cost would be to get there; needing only to cross paths with enough unsuspecting souls to help him reach his final goal.

His mantra; a worn out stanza touting suicidal tendencies, despair and angst; deviously reaching out, spewing his seed deep into the core of one vulnerable victim after another. Setting his life on cruise control; riding the tides at the expense of others; completely void of moral conscience. Reveling in his cunning; laughing yass…Yass…YASS!!!

Glorifying and romanticizing his untimely demise; misunderstood soul, plagued to the point of suicide; lamented by the masses, singing his praises; his spirit rising, watching from above. Egomaniac, if ever there was. Imagining himself, even in death; the center of attention, in the form of ash.

What he didn’t equate in the miles obsessively tracked, was the road itself reaching up; in the cloak of darkness, snatching his pathetic ass. There would be no bright light, no tunnel of peace; only a blazing ball of fire, an eternity of scorching heat.

The spell broken at the moment of death; his pact with the devil signed and sealed; damaged souls once broken, now healed. A fitting adieu; to one who once declared that Karma is but a word…


Faded scars

I feel for her.
Sort of.
Maybe not so much.
I want to warn her.
Never mind.
Let her learn the hard way.
Would do no good anyway.
Earn her badge among the ranks.
Ugly scars like the rest of us wear.
Or rather wore, I should say.
Mine are gone now.
How about yours?


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