|
| |
When she’s dissatisfied,
a river of guilt washes over me.
My chest tightens, my stomach knots.
I can’t eat.?I can’t speak.
It feels better than the blows?
that once lashed against my skin.?
At least the hits explained? why
I should feel hurt,?
why I should be afraid.
But her words—?they leave me frozen.?I want to explain,?I wish I could.
?But it’s like she always says:?“You never know, do you, Ameirah?”
Copyright ©
Ameirah Rivers
|
|