Practice By Tianna G. Hansen


mom wasn’t home, she’d left
to pick up my younger sister,
leaving me wide open, vulnerable
in the face of someone who shouldn’t
be a monster,
but was.
a man who should have taken our love
unconditional as it may be
and cherished it instead of taking
advantage – haunting my nightmares
for years after
& that night
he said, here, take this,
handed me a ripe banana, thick and
yellow – practice with it, he’ll
like that –        he meant my boyfriend
at the time, who he had
caught me feeling up on the couch
last Sunday when he came over
for dinner;
our conversation
started off with a weird twist
and a coiling inside my stomach
i don’t think your mother gave you
a good enough               sex talk
and this was months after he would
kiss me on the lips           good-night
something not even my own
flesh & blood father did
something not even my mother
would do, but I didn’t realize then
that it was                     wrong
how would I? all I wanted,
all I sought & yearned was love,
acceptance from a father figure
and I thought that’s what he gave me
but in the end
all I was left holding
was that ripe banana and
my heart,          dripping blood
aching and crying out like a lost child
I guess they always say,
practice makes perfect
but I never did what he suggested
it felt so             crude
and a few years later there was
the divorce which took away his shadow
lingering as it did
over me, a monster that had crawled
out from under the bed
and refused to return          to the darkness
from whence he came.

By Tianna G. Hansen


Tianna G. Hansen has spent her whole life writing and intends to continue this with her recent husband by her side and her wonderful cat Stella. She started her own indie lit mag in June, Rhythm & Bones, and has continued expanding with the most recent project an anthology for survivors of sexual abuse to come forward and share their stories. Follow her work at or check out her mag at She’s also on Twitter @Tiannag92.

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