Daddy’s Game

published in FRiGG Magazine

and Haggard & Halloo




I imagine you must’ve shut

yourself off somehow–the way

you’d eventually teach me to do–

before you entered my room

like a king’s shadow.


I hear the scrape of your jeans

your hands hot and big like swings;
I’m young so I love you.  I do as you say.

You blow smoke in my face.


Now, here, I slip

because you taught me how to shut off–

how to die inside,

and I have only memories

of my body:


fear, arousal, panic and pain,

death around every corner






I hid so well I lost me

in this confusion of a woman

trying to bud from

what’s already been picked.


24 thoughts on “Daddy’s Game

  1. i hid so welli lost me in the confusion…ugh…stomach turning…but you capture it exposing to us the dark underbelly of society….sad…many of the kids i worked with were abused….ripped me up pretty good to hear many of their stories….powerful in your honesty….


  2. Wow Amy…I fear I know those feelings…that sense of nothing…trying to feel, to live…while fighting tooth and nail to hang on to yourself as you battle your way through paradigms implanted by those who knew no better…powerful and very real and honest write…


  3. “Now, here, I slip . . .” Describes perfectly the falling sensation of dissociation, in the past and in the present. I love your work because it speaks to me (and my own PTSD) but even if it didn’t strike so many personal chords, your work would stand out for the craft of the poetry.



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