As a child I asked my mother
to mend my lonely heart
to accept and understand me
as I am and not as who she hoped I’d be.

Please do not turn your pain on me
inflicting wounds so deep
that I refuse to ever trust myself.

Eyes aflamed with tears.
Sinuses clogged with snot.
Without comprehending
without words I asked for her patience
her kindness, to secure my innocence.
I asked for safety at home.

Had I known the violence she would sow
planting row after row
of red marks and broken hearts
I would have found a gun
and a safe little corner.
I would have asked no one
and taken the peace I deserved.