Taste Of Tar
Taste Of Tar
When he yells and swears,
It leaves a bitter taste of tar,
In far back of her throat.
Her fathers face
Flashes before her eyes.
His words leaving
A deep imprint in her brain.
Once big mouthed and smiley
Now small, fragile and quiet.
She shrinks back into herself.
Like she had seen her mother do,
Most of her life.
He had meant it as a joke,
Not realising how much it would affect her.
Head down, shaking,
She couldn't look at him.
She couldn't bring herself
To look up at him,
She would see her fathers eyes,
Instead of the ocean that he held behind his.
He had never moved so fast before,
Realising that her breaths
Had become more panic,
That she had moved closer
To the door and further from him.
He slowed in front of her
And softly reached out,
Cautious, making sure she wouldn't run,
Like a parent comforting their weeping child,
He placed his hand softly upon her's
And the other on her chin.
He lifted her face and kissed her cheeks,
So softly she almost missed it.
Tears crept forward
In a panic, she apologised without even thinking,
For all, she could apologisefor
Was being so fragile.
He continues to hold her,
Whispering sweet sorry's.
Scared for she was glass
And if he wasn't careful enough
Or if he let go,
She might just shatter.