When you were young, you ran
Away from him
That tall man with
The loud voice

Might have well been
A monster
Taken from a nightmare with
Sharp teeth, glaring eyes

You were his captive
Audience, summoned by a bark,
Angry and pointed
Each word burying itself under your flesh

You felt the volume and the pace
Too frightened
To absorb the words
Betrayed and desperate, you sat

Exposed with tears and shaking hands
Waiting,  praying to
Escape behind your shut door
It turned out

The space between the bookshelf
And the dresser was the right size
To squeeze in
With your knees tucked to your chin

When you closed the closet door
The tight corner held you,
The carpet caught your tears
The darkness almost stole away his words

When you were older, you listened
To his voice, his words
The unstable arguments they constructed
The scattered meanings

Only seemed to come together
After some time
They steeped in your mind, growing
Strong and bitter. You spit them out

In conversations with
Your mother, your sister
Together you unpacked their
Flaws and failures

But in the moment, you were choked
By gasping and sobbing and begging
It was the destructive product
Of a broken heart

Your mind silently observed, letting
Your soul take the blows
Simply watching the time pass
Relying on a calmer future to arrive

When you were seventeen, you spoke
And looked him in the eye, never
Looking up, He was not so big
You were not small

Yes, your eyes teared, your hands shook
You paused to breathe
In and out
But never forfeit

Your trembling voice was
Still a voice, pushing
Not back at him, but
Towards a shared victory:

Progress. Carved from slow
Logic, pure stubbornness, and
Undeserved hope
The belief that somehow

He would hear you
Back and forth, through cries and swears
His voice softened, his pace slowed
Even then, you refused to walk away

Your emotions were woven into words
The hurt, confusion, and anger swelled into
A song of defiance and strength
That still echoes in his mind

i’ve seen those eyes before
but the dark circles
the pale skin
an expressionless face

i’m looking at a stranger
i cannot help her

those eyes watch me as i walk through
my childhood home
they stare back
from old photographs

no
i cannot help her

the green notebook hidden in my nightstand
has letters to her on every other page

I read them to shadows every night
until I can fall asleep in her arms

when I wake up
her pillow is cold

when I die
do not burn away my flesh
do not reduce me to smoke and ash

when I die
do not place my artificial skin on a bed of satin
do not isolate me in claustrophobic wooden walls

when I die
take me to a forest and let the wind knot my hair
muddy my fingertips in the swirling water of a stream

when I die
cut through the soil, mind the roots and rocks
lower me till my back rests against the dirt

when I die
tuck me into a bed of imperceivable
but triumphant life

when I die
sprinkle my grave with birdseed
let me go, I will be in good company

when I die
let me dissolve into something substantial
let the rain seep through the earth and separate
each cell of my being