Talking to my mom physically hurts me.
She beats me with her words,
Because she can’t beat me with her hands.
She insists on taking up space
While I was trained to be small.
She plays daily intimidation games
To make sure I remember who to be afraid of
Every morning since I was born,
Always demanding of what’s hers
A scared dog with no muzzle
Biting whatever is within its reach.
She would scream in my face
Until hers was red, flinging spit at me
SHUT! THE FUCK! UUUUUUUP!
until I would cover my ears
THEN YOULL BE QUIET FOR GOOD
JUST WAIT TILL YOU DAD GETS HOME
but the monster is already here.
I wish I could say it’s over now, but
I still live in her claws.
And I hope I don’t turn into a monster, too.