published in FRiGG Magazine, Issue 35 2012
DADDY’S GAME
I imagine you must’ve shut
yourself off somehow–the way
you’d eventually teach me to d0–
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
shh girl shh
I hid so well I lost me
in this confusion of a woman
trying to bud from
what’s already been picked.
Such a powerful poem.
Quite intriguing, leaves me wanting more
oh amy…tears..i’m just lost for words…
Thanks for reading, Claudia
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….
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…
pain in every corner of this poem, for such a difficult subject, so tenderly done … x
thank you, Steve, very much
Such a betrayal, it’s terrible. You expressed the pain sensitively.
Powerful and moving.
My God, Amy…I’m brought to tears, I feel anger, no, rage but deeper, at your loss. You are so, so brave to tell this truth.
Heather thank you again. This poem pretty much wrote itself shortly after I was out of the bin and the ptsd was simmering
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Whew, fantastic imagery ~ I can’t imagine the pain and loss of innocence ~ Bravo for writing and publishing this ~ Cheers ~
Brilliant and compelling!
Thank you Russell!
Reblogged this on russellboyle and commented:
Compelling verse by Amy Jo Sprague
Amy, the reblog did not do justice to your poem, so I deleted it. I seek your permission to post “Daddy’s Game” on http://russellboyle.wordpress.com/ under a new category titled “Sprague Amy Jo” and with links to both “difficult degrees” and your “About” page. Russell Boyle
Oh wow thank you! Absolutely!
Great poem, Amy. Just the right words, in all the right places. Powerful.
Thank you so very much, Mark
A nice poem about a terrible case. I feel for any woman having lost that feeling of worth underage, and more I condemn any man taking her innocence. God will repay.
“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.
I hope writing this helped ease many peoples’ painful journeys.