How am I how I am
when she is so angry?
I wake up, hear the tension.
Can you feel the tension?
I am speaking it,
she can’t help but to
weave it through my own
mouth, it’s invasive.

I am not her.
I am the cry when she shouts
though little by little
I stand up taller and walk out.
If you are like me,
if your mum is like mine,
you are not her.
I am not her and you are not her.