my mother wasn't a fan of kids
so she trained my brothers
and I
to act like adults
for fear of physical punishment
she didn't understand what
it meant for her
to hit us until we bruised
and then turn around and
tell us she loved us
to make us feel so alone
in the world
only for her to tell us
'you're being immature'
we had to be adults as kids
so now that she's gone
we are kids as adults
because we never got the time
we needed
to simply live
YOU ARE READING
The Beauty in the Beast
PoetryHold on a second while I divulge my soul to the internet.