I always ask—
will this be the last
memory that comes back
to haunt me?
There must be an end
to this rage.

I always ask—
is this the last
burden I feel,
when their needs
will be theirs
to own?

I always ask—
is this the last
of being
invalidated?
Will they
finally say
something
that doesn’t
hurt
so bad?

I always ask—
am I to scrutinize
your behavior forever?
What’s genuinely for me
and not you?