Jade McGlynn Poet Spoken Word

You know what you did

You say you don’t know what abuse I’m talking about.
Like your hands are clean,
like your words were water and not gasoline on my skin.

Stop.
You know.
You were there.
You built the cage and then called it a home.

You called it “discipline.”
You called it “parenting.”
But I called it nights with my heart in my throat,
waiting for the next explosion from the man who taught me fear before he ever taught me love.

You say you don’t know.
I think you don’t want to.
Because if you name it,
then you own it.
If you own it,
then you’re guilty.
And guilt is heavy.
but not as heavy as the years you left on my shoulders.

Don’t act like memory is a trick.
I was there too.
I remember the slammed doors,
the insults flung like stones,
the way I swallowed my voice
because every word I spoke
was another target on my back.

You want me to doubt myself.
You want me to shrink again.
But I’m not small anymore.
I’ve grown around the burn marks.
I’ve learned to spit fire back.
So hear me now:

Your silence doesn’t erase what happened.
Your denial doesn’t scrub the blood from the floor.
You don’t get to gaslight me out of my own childhood.
You say you don’t know.
I say you do.
And I’m done carrying your secrets.
I’m done wearing your shame.
I’m calling it by its name 
abuse 
and I’m saying it loud enough that even you can’t pretend not to hear it.

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