i hated the empty closets
at my father's house
and i could never trace the smell of his bed covers
back to my mother

and so when you hug me
please don't be angry if i cringe

cause those empty metal hangers
left scars on my ribcages
and they hurt when you hold me.

and i won't let you tell me i'm wrong.
for now
this is my truth
whether you like it or not
and you will never read this
but i know you know that i know and i can't
hold onto these things forever

mom,
you used to tell me
that when I was in grade two
i would spell the word love
all mixed up like a 4-piece puzzle with the picture peeled off
and when the teacher told you i needed more help
you told her that i was not smart, but brilliant
because you knew that i knew that the word was l.o.v.e
but i just couldn't see it like the other kids

and when i grew up and could spell love like a proper woman
i began to tongue tie the meaning
thinking that love was a man-made void
where lonely hearts could hide when they were sick of being alone

ironically i became a wordsmith
breaking down the cruel words and building them into poetic misery
i'd grind my teeth to keep the cries from falling out
of a mouth that had mastered the craft of splenda sentences
artificial in its hope for a brighter tomorrow.
i'd plead for a kinder morning
but the sunrise became no more than 6 am
and bus rides to school became the fear of being found out
that something was wrong

and yet with the bitter tongue i used to fight you
i finally understand
that when the girls at school cut me with the razor blades under their tongues
i let the wounds fester into truth
and they sting when you touch them
so when i cringe when you hug me
please don't be angry

i have been taught from a young age
that the words Mom and Dad
are never together in a sentence unless they're split like their marriage
with the word
abused
like their first years
or the word
left
like their three little girls
and the word
forgot
like the grades that were dropping
when i was in grade 2
and they said i'd never be able to spell love like the other kids.

and to this day
the word gets tied
on my tongue

i olev you

mom,
you filled the house with your words
drained through your teeth
pushed out by the weight on your shoulders
and i thought it was my job to carry that weight
and so i hid the bottles i found under the sink
i forgot when you told me that you were abused
i didn't let them see the things i wish i could not see
and i'm sorry i didn't work hard enough
i'm sorry that the hangers were still empty even when i filled the house with singing
that the words were still empty when i told you "it's gonna be okay, i'm okay. you're okay"
that they were never enough
to push the elephants out of the house
or the bats out of the chimney
or fill the empty seat at the head of the table

and i can't tell whether or not your words were the fuel to keep the lies going
or if was your tool to rebuild a new truth
but now that i know the divorce was your fault
i can feel walls falling down inside me.

and dad,
you filled the house with numbers
cheques and bills and tax returns and student loans  and
that's all I could see when i came into your house
to hide the fact that there were empty hangers in your coat closet, too
and i could never smell mom's perfume on the bed sheets in your room.

and so as i grew up i taught myself to hide in the empty closets
but if the locks are for the robbers
what happens when they're on the inside?
like the boys i let in to take the pain away
i gilded my bones into gold that i might be worth something to them
but i wasn't worth enough.

the one who mocked us with his sticks and stones melody
never felt the weight of the worded stones thrown across living rooms
or of bitter resentment of parents who once loved each other
while their children hide under the bed.
the sticks that i used as crutches
broke from underneath me when i realized the truth of exactly how much I lost
mydaddywasawayalot.
mommyreallycriesalot.
girlsatschoolareme­antome.
icutmyselfwhenican'tsleep.

It still stings to hear my name from your mouth
cause the pain of what I mean to you is laced with what i had to offer in condolences
to the things you had to hide from your children as they grew older
but now I know
and i feel the weight of it become too heavy to carry anymore
so this is goodbye to the guilt I carried.
this is goodbye to the chains that i held
whether they were mine to hold or not
i did it for you
for both of you.

i know what love is now.
i'm sorry i couldn't get it in elementary school
but i'm older now
and i know that to love
is to tell her daughter she is brilliant
even when words and their meanings are falling apart.