by Jenna Baig

And he who speaks evil of father or mother, let him surely die
Matthew 15:4
But what of the blood on my father’s hands?
I can’t even bathe without thinking
of my blood on my father’s hands

or the blood of my mother
who sees me as the ghost
of a forced conceptionor the blood of my sister
who is nothing but bone
waiting to be chewed on by the next dog
with teeth like our fatheror the blood of my brothers
who stand in my father’s mirror
waving to his reflection.he smiles
while he whispers,
there are no angels
there is no heaven
there is no God.
but we were baptized in the shower
by our father.
he washed away our sins
as the blood
ran down our legs.

Author Bio: Jenna Baig is a high school student who loves creative writing. Sylvia Plath is one of her inspirations.