As an adult
I spend my time
Reflecting on my past
I was a happy child
I had a happy family
We weren’t rich
But there was a lot of love

Something changed when I turned 13.
My chest grew,
I wore makeup,
I bleached my hair,
My curves started to show.
My mother began to hate me.

Torment began to fill my time.
She tells me she loves me
more than anyone in the world,
but belittles me and infantilizes me.

How was I supposed to earn
the love of my mother
when she kept
getting jealous of me.

She never let me
leave the house
I had to keep
my life private
to protect myself
from judgement,
aching, and pain.

she made me feel small
so I kept quiet.

I told her a couple months ago
I was going to start therapy
she asked me what was wrong
and I told her I’m scared
to leave the house.

Sometimes I try to leave
And I’m 13 all over again.