Sharp slivers of words built up
From years of staying silent
Fill my mouth but stay trapped.
My hands are dirty
My knees scraped
By the brush I’ve been running through
Because the things that make other things
Go bump in the night
Chase after me and it’s still early.
“Come here, pretty one,”
They whisper while glaring with steely eyes
Gently stroking my muddied hair.
It is in this void
I am prey and unsafe
Discoverable to all my demons
My eyes like lighthouses guiding them towards me.
I can’t shut my kids from this nightmare.
I can’t keep still
And yet I’m frozen
A time capsule of a body
Willing itself to move
By the screams coming from within
And yet always too far away
From the nearest exit.