a slow inhale as i wake
aches in every muscle
every nerve on its end
exhausted and heavy
time blurs into itself
into a single moment
into picturesque bliss
on a rotting canvas
i am rotting with it
the world keeps spinning
my clothes become tatters
my knees become weak
my feet bleed
if i could just close my eyes
for five more minutes
five more hours
five more years
which is better
to stand and fall
or kneel and live
to live is to suffer
to forever kneel
for those who tower over me
to always be less
to always be this
to feel the world crumbling around me
again and again
i kneel and cower
to protect myself from debris
that crushes me anyway
life is kneeling
so maybe i should stand
and fall
because kneeling
isn't living

i am four
and i learn how to cower:
to put away
my disobedience,
my words,
my innocence,
and look at you like an animal.

i am ten and i know how to cower...
and how to go to school,
and how to live alone,
but by now, i’ve learned to wish
for things greater than mom just
coming home and for you to simply
stop
screaming.

so i turn fourteen, but still you are
evil, and i,
broken…
a doll, that grows but does not extend its
limbs
past the deep end
or grows any new sets of teeth.

i age into fifteen and get broken by someone else...

and then i turn sixteen, as time goes on,
i guess,
and still feel broken, but this time its
different than from when you first
broke me,
and i become harder but happier…
sadder, but sharper when in a
stasis, and
try to heal through watching people have a love
for others...

but i fail, and still become happy,
anyway
and

finally, it is now, and i can say i grow up,
as i will always
continue to grow, and when you come back,
i extend my hand in thinking
it’s finally safe when
you grasp it again...

and break all of my fingers.

it is now,
and i learn how to cower.

All the things we neglect to say or feel
are stored up somewhere
swirling and undulating in the deep

Eventually, they all rise up--
in a single violent urge
it exits our cowering bodies all at once

and there's nothing one can do but shake

I hear the constant yelling
I hear your constant arguments
I hear the fight you have
I hear the insults you yell at each other
When will it stop?
You yell and scream
You pull me into your fights
I see the things being thrown
I hear the demeaning things said
When will they finally concede?
It’s like living with 4 year olds
I can see the redness in their faces
I can hear the raw anger In their voice
I can hear the curses being thrown
I can feel the hatred emanating from their bodies
Do they know how that affects me?
Tensing up whenever they are in the same room
When they leave the room,
The Relief I feel is instant
For then next couple days,
Loud noises scare me
I’m constantly on edge,
Why should the people you love not love each other?
She says that you should just be quiet
He says well look at you
I just try not to cower away