Thirteen Years Before

**"Thirteen Years Before"** is a poem by Matthew S. Breslau. It was originally written in October 2012, but was finally published on February 17th, 2019.

## Text

> Once upon a time,
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>
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> There was a Terri and a Scott.
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> I know they lived in Brooklyn,
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> But the rest I just forgot.
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> One day a son was born to them,
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> And then a daughter, too.
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> But this was the beginning
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> Of a life I show to you:
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> The family moved to Hicksville
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> When the boy was just a tot.
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> The daughter had not learned to walk,
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> But soon began to trot.
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>
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> And life was nice and sober
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> In this land so soft and sweet.
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> But one day, after seven years,
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> This bond fell off its feet.
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> Another man named Steven
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> Had usurped the fair Scott’s role,
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> And on Terri’s computer,
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> The two of them would mull
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> On and on about how much
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> They loved each other’s hearts.
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> And Scott himself was torn up,
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> And that’s when this all starts.
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> The uncle of this Scott, I say,
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> He ruined the machine
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> That delivered all these messages
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> Of sullied lovers’ dreams.
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>
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> And after yet another
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> Sleepless night of doubt and pain,
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> Scott had finally snapped,
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> And out of anger, went insane.
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> He threw the sheets off of the bed
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> And wakened frightened child,
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> Who promptly dialed 9-1-1,
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> With screaming chiming miles.
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> The father dragged her out the door
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> And thrashed her with his fists,
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> And all the while the son stood stiff.
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> Why did it come to this?
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> The block was then soon littered up
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> With flashing reds and blues,
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> As one cohesive family
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> Was called out as a ruse.
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> Another year passed by and
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> Steven hurried to Scott’s place.
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> He brought a light and smile
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> To the pallid Terri’s face.
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> But Terri’s growing son
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> Would never hold a torch for him,
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> As over thirteen years,
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> The man would surely torture him.
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> He tortured him in daytime,
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> When the frail boy was weak.
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> He tortured him at nighttime–
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> How the boy did try to seek
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> Some solace in his sister,
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> Who always rebuffed his remarks,
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> And only showed him a display
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> When she was needy of his smarts.
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> He loved her very dearly,
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> With all his heart and soul,
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> But she would never tell him
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> Anything to help console.
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> One summer, Terri’s son
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> Was sitting up so late at night,
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> When suddenly he found a sign
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> Of evidential light:
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> A girl who reasoned with him
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> And showed him so much care,
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> A girl who liked his giggle
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> And ran her fingers through his hair.
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> Three years came and went,
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> And torture never was so rough…
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> The more that time had come and gone,
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> The more that life was tough.
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> And for a growing boy
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> Only breaking through his teens,
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> The suffocation that he felt
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> Was always this supreme.
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> Then one night, Terri’s boyfriend,
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> In rancor and in rage,
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> Threw fists and body on her son
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> And trapped him in his cage.
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> An elbow and a dignity
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> Were broken on that night,
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> And Terri stood back, unabashed
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> And stiffened by this fright.
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> From that day on she defended Steve.
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> He could do no form of wrong!
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> For he was always pure at heart,
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> And he would be for so long…
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>
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> And after several years of it,
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> The son’s girl had enough,
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> And tossed him to the side, saying,
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> “Your life is too rough.”
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> Defeated and ashamed,
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> The boy failed out of school posthaste,
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> With an ever-wrought grimace
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> Peeking out from his dull face.
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> And the punishments all started,
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> And the sacrifice began,
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> And the yelling, and the screaming,
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> And the knife in the son’s hand.
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> The cuts upon his forearm
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> Drew attention from his friends,
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> And from his brand-new girlfriend,
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> Who would stay there ‘til the end.
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> But not a word of kind remorse
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> Was spoken by Terri or Steve,
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> And they continued on, as all the while,
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> The son felt so bereaved.
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> His family called him a liar,
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> No matter wrong or right.
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> He could never be telling the truth,
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> Because no evidence was ever in sight.
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> Terri and Steve were never around,
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> To check and see the facts.
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> But everyone else in the son’s life,
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> Was there to have his back.
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> They were with him everyday,
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> And witnessed all his attempts
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> At procuring something for himself
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> To be able to pay Steve’s rent.
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> His family labeled him a lazy boy
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> And a liar once again.
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> They told him he could never bring
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> His loved ones or girlfriend
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> Over to his living space,
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> No matter how sparse or small,
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> All because the bastard Steve
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> Decided he knew it all.
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> And today our Steve still reigns supreme
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> While Terri’s son cries nightly,
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> Clutching onto a Kirby doll
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> And clinging ever so tightly.
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> He could never forget the hopes and dreams
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> That Terri crushed that day,
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> When she announced that Steve was
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> Going to be around to stay.
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> Scott faded to the background,
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> And became angry, wrathful, and sore,
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> While his son has fallen apart, like *he* had–
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> Thirteen years before.
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