Growing Up
We’ll never be those kids again.
Please, don’t forget what it felt like to be those kids again.
I clung to you because you were my protector, my guardian, my light
When daddy was yelling and I was crying, by my side you said, “keep fighting”
When it came to the day where all was found out
I begged and I bled, I just wanted out.
You wrote me a letter in the hospital telling me you love me and to stay strong,
We didn’t deserve for life to treat us so wrong.
But that night
That night you weren’t you
You had the same anger he always held in his eyes.
That violent red does not suit your beautiful browns
I learned to fear men.
I fear the raised voices and the clenched fists because in my experience these things always led to me
Balled up in the middle of the bathroom floor
Trying to hold my skin together
Trying to keep the organs inside
Trying not to drown in the words falling and settling around my body like a goddamn crime scene.
I cry and the innocence leaks out through my eyes.
I want to wipe them away and lick my fingers clean,
Force every bit back inside that you forced out.
I know you’re hurting in ways you feel no one understands,
But I’ll listen and here I am.
I lost you somewhere along the way of us being those kids.
The kids that camped under blankets over bunk beds and sent secret messages even when it was way past our bedtime…
“We’ll never be those kids again,” I say. And this time I feel it in my heart.
I feel it like a clean break.
Right down the middle.
-I’m still not giving up
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