1 or 2

by: Madeleine Lietz


I am my best at weird hours of the night
I’d say 1 or 2 just working ‘til the light
And I wasn’t use to being like this way, no
It goes all the way back to Kansas, years ago

I was maybe 19 and was brutally raped
It was those painful months, years,
The time I’ll never get back now I fear

But when I’m awake real late at night
Sometimes I’ll wonder what he’s doing
What he might.
I’m wondering if he’s making buddies in county jail
Or if he sleeps like a baby, not about to bail.

And I still think about that black, cold night
When he grabbed my waist and pulled me under tight
Deep down under to the depths of hell.
We paid a little visit to the devil himself.

Hell was everything I didn’t want to imagine
I fought and panicked for just a little bit of oxygen

The devil breathed in thick, black smoke and fire
When he asked me, “what do you desire?”
“Anything?” I replied still struggling for breath
“Yes, young girl, but give it a rest. Get back to me
sometime, and I’ll do my best”

Everyone knows the devil’s number, it’s too easy to tell
Just three consecutive digits and you’re straight to hell

Without another thing more
I was back in the black, cold bedroom door
Back in my dorm room bed where I burst from the blankets
to take my breath of air once more.

And this wasn’t a nightmare cause this man was still there
He wasn’t about to leave until he finished the gruesome deed.

Out of the door, maybe hours more. I wasn’t counting.
But when sunlight hit me that morning, I was shaken, wondering and groaning

I slowly sat up, up out of this mess
Stood up, looked down and to my surprise
My eyes refused to look twice.
Torn up and bruised beyond recognition
Wounds, cuts and bleeds
Almost fainted from the blood dripping down my knees

I stumbled to the door in desperation
What was I to do?
I yelled out, “please, somebody help me through!”
Get me through this mess! I was only minding my own business

Just as any other college girl, we beat the time, we had the night
With my friends, it felt so right.

But how wrong was I, to be so naive
So dumb thinking, this could never happen to me

So 2 ½ years later, the clock is reading 12:49
My time is almost near, as every dark night

1 or 2 is when I go to work in benevolence
the time when most dream in sweet silence
I’m fighting for my life back in love
With the comfort and care of a sweet dove

In the back of my mind every night
He’s there waiting, waiting to bite

Desperation, fear, unworthiness, mistrust
All of the above seem not at all robust
Compared to the tears and the time
How one man messed up my mind

So if you’re ever up at 1 or 3
Please think and pray for me
God knows I’ll be working away
It will all come to healing someday