Each night I am nailed into place
and forget who I am.
Daddy? 
That's another kind of prison.
It's not the prince at all, 
but my father
drunkeningly bends over my bed, 
circling the abyss like a shark, 
my father thick upon me
like some sleeping jellyfish.
What voyage is this, little girl? 
This coming out of prison? 
God help -
this life after death?
 — Anne Sexton
  fairy-tales-retoldincestmolestation