Every since I was a little girl
maybe 5
I could hear voices
not of dead people
but the annoying living ones
A few words here and there, at first
then whispers in the evenings
and finally commands criticism and ridicule
One would call my  name slowly and ask me to sit up straight for hours and wear itchy stockings till it was time to go to bed
Another would snap at me!
Avert your eyes and hide yourself in the kitchen or one of the upstairs bedrooms
On Fridays one screamed at me for no apparent reason,
I guess she didn't like me
the next one took great pleasure in embarrassing me about my stutter and overbite
The old and judgemental ones were by far the worst
Shrill, soft, low, feminine, raspy and plain crazy
they would come out of no where
one minute I'm fine and going on with my day
and very next I'm holding my head in hands and cursing
I get this 7 days a week, the weekends were not for resting, socializing and fun
I would have to sit in a stuffy old room every weekend decorated with books, an atlas, and cobwebs
all alone while the rest played downstairs
dressed up for a funeral, where no one died
this has been happening to me for many long years
but I long to hear my mothers voice
Where are you ma?