delicate » l.s. mpreg

glass door

glass door
by louis tomlinson

my mother watches me through a glass door
it isn't locked
and she already has the key
but she decides not to open it anyways

whenever i step out
she allows me to return
padding her thumb over a split lip
"why didn't you stop him?"
why didn't you?

she shakes the hand that beats me
smiles at the face of my pain
even as i watch with a wine-stained eye

"you should have stopped him"
she says as she dresses my wounds

it's the same thing i want to say to her
every time she watched me go back home to him

when you are younger
your mum places band-aids over skinned knees
and kisses bruises better
it is something you're supposed to grow out of

i never did