I bet you don't know
How I waited for you
To come home,
Scared I'd never see you again.
I bet it never occurred
To you that I was frightened
Of how quickly
Your eyes would turn black.
I bet you don't understand
Why I had to go to bed
After I heard everyone
Come home and the front door lock.
I bet you didn't hear
Me wake up hours earlier
Than everyone else
So I could make sure everyone was still there.
I bet you don't know
What is was like
For me growing up
As your daughter.
I bet you don't know
What it is like
For me as an adult
Without a mother.
Every time you walked out
Because you were angry
At my dad or me or my sisters
I sat by the front window.
Every time I saw your eyes
Go from greenish blue
To cloudy black
I steeled myself for the beating.
Every time I went to bed
I prayed to God
That if He was good
My family would come home safe.
Every time I woke up
I went from bed to bed
Checking that my family
Was still there and alive.
Growing up I was
Proud and honored
When people would say
"You're HER daughter!"
As an adult now
I avoid any talk of you,
Association with you,
Knowledge of you.
It was good,
For the most part
"Basically good,"
Having you for a mother.
Even though missing you
Hurts my heart every day,
I have to say resoundingly,
"Not being abused feels better."
