The bathroom was like a sanctuary
As a teenager
the bathroom was
like a sanctuary.
A place where
in privacy
I could in nudity
reflect on life
and soak in hot water
and wash every thing dirty
away from me.
I was undisturbed until
my mother married again
and one of my stepsisters
had a small girl
who used to follow me
and when I was eighteen
and she was about thirteen.
time and time again
she somehow
unlocked the bathroom
and walked in on me.
From where I shouted her out
in anger and shock
and wasn’t amused
to get a shouting back
from a step father
who wasn’t a dad to me
and didn’t see
anything wrong with it.
Thinking back
it might have been something
in her genetics
or a lack of good moral standing,
since her mother (my ex step sister)
who was quite beautiful,
in vain tried to seduce my brother
but never tried
to set that snare for me.
poem by Gert Strydom
Added by Poetry Lover
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