Walked into the room, he did,

while I wasn't looking.

He crept up behind me

like old white spiders I couldn't see.

He looked at the mirror

where I was trapped.

In the layers of silver sinking,

the face of a laughing boy.

He roughly took hold of me,

And made me face him,

I tried to hide amidst the layers of satin.

He peeled off me the attire,

I should never have had on.

He tried to see if the boy was still there.

Amidst the purple shimmer of his mum's wear.

And all he saw that night was me

And not the boy he wanted to see.

He took in a deep breath and

for a moment did pause,

My father beat me then,

for what I never was.