DNA

DNA “You are not worthy of my love.” Silent words scorch skin like an invisible flame. DNA passed down and left to wither, a family heirloom I don’t dare claim. A cracked and shattered mirror, a broken picture frame— I see nothing of you in me, and maybe that’s why you never say my name. But when the scoreboard flashes victory, your number lights up my screen, as if a game could bridge the silence, as if love was something you’d ever mean. She has your eyes, your sharp-edged smile, you call her first, like she’s proof you exist. I wear my mother’s face instead, a reflection you’d rather dismiss.