Your father taught you how to fight,
let's give him that.
He taught you how to swallow blows like a man.
Congrats, you cannot feel anything now.
Congrats,your mouth snaps faster than a trap now.
Congrats, you're a precise shooter now.
Congrats, everybody's the enemy now.
But he forgot to teach you when a fight is over.
He forgot to mention that every back isn't a target, that relationships aren't shooting ranges,
that the sun shows up on some days,
that rain isn't all you have to get ready for.
YOU ARE READING
Purple blush
Poetry''Everything you did to me, I remember. Mama, I made it out of your home alive, raised by the voices in my head. '' -Warsan Shire, Extreme girlhood
