mama whispered into my ear "you can tell me anything".
how can I tell you everything when every word spoken,
is seen in obliviousness to whats in front of you,
like how papa creeps up into the room when your lost in a world of dreams,
the way his inquisitive hands find its way to areas you would not believe.
I hate the way you **** up to him,
when we both know whose the victim,
and yet you tell me,
ask me,
patronize me into speaking in the presence of him.