He was a mean looking man.
He had no straight teeth,
he ate lots of meat.

He was a mean looking man.
He busted through the locked door,
heading for my mother.

His butt was mine,
or so I thought,
wrongly so.

I threw myself at him,
head driving for the vulnerable throat.
He caught me.

He gave me a hard punch to the spine,
I went down, paralized.
Then he raped my mother in my view.

It made me spew.
Then he turned to me and spit with contempt,
in my face, spittle leaving a trace.

He then delivered one quick blow.
The pain was intense for one moment,
then the darkness overwhelmed the light.

(Another one of my nightmares which deserved a poem of its own. It was so vivid that I awoke screaming with pain, even though you aren't supposed to feel pain in dreams. I went into the bathroom at 4:30AM when I calmed down enough to walk and took a bath until everyone was up. The water may have soothed my emotions temporarily, but it cannot sooth my turmoiled and ravaged soul. That nightmare, now in poem form here has been the reason I have gotten 3 hours of sleep in the past 36-48 hours.)