Hell or High Water

(A Recounting by the Penn State Shower) 


There is no courage as enduring as that of a lion 
If these walls could talk 
If I could talk 
If these walls were arms 
I would have reached out to stop him 

They built me in an embrace 
I never sought to hold such impurity 
Nothing cleanses haunted eyes 
Time will pass and shame will still stain my floors 
Becoming the smudge you overlook 

Monsters don't always hide beneath beds 
Some become smiles between victory and validation 
Victims are just boys who believed 
I am just an object 
Adamately inanimate a victim of inaction 

He touched me first 
Wrist wrenching wishing wells 
Waterfall feelings like embraced rage 
Ripping hearts from where compassion sat 
No one will ask where his compassion is at 

There are lions here devouring our young 
Predators on glory fields 
Growling below the excited din of victory 
Fading innocence longing for acceptance 
Sacrificial souls given to be a part of something 
All I could offer was a hiss of discontent 
And a tear laden watery grave 

This is where your babies died 
Covered in an emulsion of agony bloody suds 
And the gratitude of a demon 
Courage must be caged like off season uniforms 

Here within my walls 
Where bare boys are shielded from prying eyes 
A man strips his disguise inside me 
His body becomes pry bar between moral and molestation 

Nothing is clean about what happens here 
That drain is the sinkhole for his hollow humanity 
Why didn't God shake the earth 
Crumbling these walls around him 

If God ripped me open 
So devils could be devoured 
I would gladly trade my existence 
For stifled cries that became roars 
Of rebellion in the void beneath my regret 

If God tore off the roof 
Our combined lament 
Could have drowned demons 
I have shed so much regret and remorse 
The weight prevents me from holding my head high 

I have memorized every grief stricken footprint 
Proof of secrets he asked them to keep 
But walls do not have ears 
How do I still hear the cries 

There are skies purging themselves 
Like shower heads with torn hearts 
Open arteries letting life leak out of them 
I wanted to save those boys 

Jerry Sandusky 
If walls could talk they would speak in curses 
You are the horror a shower won't wash away 
If this were a house you would be ashen ember 
Their innocence smoldering 
Smoke still rising from where you grasped them 

An arsonist witnessing his work 
Beneath the spray of hose hope and salvage 
We must now put your fires 
Lions will devour their young 
Infernos will roar in similar fashion 
I hope you burn in hell