You are the star
of each and every
one of my nightmares,
in most of them
You hand me a sugar cube
With the brightest smile
So welcoming
so warm
I greedily accepted
Placing it on the tip
Of my tongue
Until reality sets in
I did not get delivered sugar,
But rather
salt
This is what abuse is:
Hoping you will get sugar
Every time
But always ending with salt
For seventeen year.
I'm okay.