After the words have been thrown at me like daggers
Going through my body,
My mother used syrup to sweeten her voice,
And thinks that wounds that will remain for years to come
Can be glazed over and forgotten, as she flashes her stone cold eyes.
Words she types in her messages of regret
Cannot stop me from seeing her eyes
Bulging out of their sockets as she threatens to die,
Only because I asked her “why?”
Father dear, I had hoped you’d come to rescue me
When it all went down.
You tell me I’m wrong, you tell me I make my mother cry,
And I wonder how I will continue to survive.
Both of you scream that family comes first,
That family must always mean more than the rest.
What kind of family makes the girl regret that she was ever born in the first place?
What kind of family silences their daughter through death threats?
Your eyes can see the whole wide world, you’ve travelled so far and wide.
Others tell me that my parents know the secret to living, because they’re so kind.
I’m considered ungrateful and a liar, angry and sullen,
The daughter a curse to parents with such open minds.
What have they seen? What can they know
Of the cold of my mother’s empty, barren eyes?
Funny, I think, that the world can see how benevolent my parents seem.
Behind closed doors, not even my father has seen my mother’s eyes lose their gleam.
Call me a liar, call me ungrateful, call me a curse upon this family so clean,
One day, if the Gods allow, they all will see what I have seen.
Till then my mother’s syrup sweet voice will continue to poison my dreams.
Cursed child, we continue to walk with head held high
And heavy chest. I know not if solace will come,
But we must walk on, we cannot rest.